


The Principles Of A SOLDIER

by Castastrophe



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Awkward!Sephiroth, Canon Divergent, Grotesque Self Indulgence, M/M, Pining, Probably ooc, Resolved Romantic Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Tags will be updated as they hit me, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, and that’s a bit yikes, but basically they’re both lost causes, but it will be covered and discussed, but then, cause I think we all collectively forget that Sephiroth is technically Cloud’s superior officer, cloud is... not so awkward, lowkey maybe-a-little-too-obsessed Sephiroth, no beta we die like men, questionable power dynamics, rating to go up in future, seph is awkward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27542887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castastrophe/pseuds/Castastrophe
Summary: “Since when are you being pulled in to deal with the menial drama of the grunts?” Angeal queried, thumbing through the sheets in his hands.“Since the Turks have begun snatching our best candidates from right under our noses and the next best have been ending up recruited by terrorist organisations,” Sephiroth murmured.“So what is the expected outcome of you getting involved?” Angeal asked, and Sephiroth let the corner of his mouth lift in impending gratification.“Of US getting involved, Commander,” Sephiroth corrected, and Angeal’s frown returned full force as he continued to skim through the papers in his hands.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 51
Kudos: 196





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rafira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rafira/gifts).



> Gawd I have missed writing thick fic for this fandom. This is my first ship I ever shipped and my adoration remains. Soft and special spot in my heart. 
> 
> This is canon divergent...ish. Set with the boys all still based at ShinRa, but we are all happy and healthy and sane, because I need that. Cloud joins as a recruit and is not actually Zack’s friend prior to interacting with ‘the gang’, so it’s... something? I have a lot of feelings and I’m going to softly care for all of them in turn. 
> 
> I dedicate this almost solely to Rafi, who has been in my corner since my ff net spopococ days, always willing to chat Cloudbby with me and psych me up when I have no idea wtf I’m doing with my writing. She’s one of my oldest fandom friends (one of my first, actually), and she is a gem who I adore endlessly.   
> Please also go and check out her writing cause she’s incredible and inspires me on the reg. 
> 
> Anyway - I hope to update this every Saturday (AEST) but we’ll see.

A stack of neatly completed paperwork hit Sephiroth’s desk with a soft ‘thwap’, and his gaze briefly snapped to it with a cursory glance, before returning his attention to the dossier before him. 

There was an extended sigh, which Sephiroth ignored as he flipped to the next page, his boots resting on his desk as he rocked back slightly in his chair. 

“Have you slept recently?” A familiar voice asked, after it was clear Sephiroth wasn’t going to provide any acknowledgement otherwise. 

“Define ‘recently’,” Sephiroth replied, still not looking up from his work, as he heard Angeal settling into the chair opposite him. 

“Within the last forty hours, preferably.”

Sephiroth lowered his papers just enough to eye off the time and date in the corner of his computer screen. 

“It would appear not.”

There was a beat too long of a silence, and Sephiroth sighed in begrudging defeat, letting his boots drop back to the ground as he turned, finally meeting Angeal’s gaze. To the surprise of nobody, he was in full Disapproval Mode, brow furrowed deep enough that Sephiroth could hardly tell where his brows ended and his mouth began. 

“You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends. Genesis and—”

Sephiroth scoffed, and Angeal got dangerously close to rolling his eyes. 

“— Genesis  _ and _ I have noticed that you’ve been taking on a little more than necessary of late,” Angeal pressed on, “and thought it might be in your best interest to consider a little R&R. Perhaps a long weekend. Get yourself a tan.” 

Sephiroth offered as much skepticism in his stare as he could muster in the ensuing silence, as Angeal refused to budge an inch. 

There was the barest hint of amusement in his friend’s gaze, and Sephiroth mulled over the suggestion with the perspective that Angeal rarely mothered him with anything other than good intentions. 

He  _ had _ been pushing himself to his limits, but it wasn’t entirely intentional. 

Workload had been intense, and there had been smatterings of unusual monster spawns cropping up through every sector of late. He’d originally pinned it down to time of year, before reassessing that there was likely terrorist involvement tied into it, before also recognising that he couldn’t entirely rule out Hojo himself. He’d had a meeting or twelve with Lazard and Reeve over integrity of the reactors and those had hardly brought up a modicum of result, much to his and the directors’ frustrations. There was a big question mark above it all, and Sephiroth’s nature would seldom let a mystery go unsolved. 

The General closed the dossier with a gloved hand and passed it over to his commander, who continued to frown disapprovingly as he took it and flicked it open. 

“I will consider your ridiculous proposal when more time sensitive matters have been dealt with,” Sephiroth offered by way of compromise, as Angeal’s eyebrows slowly eased out of a crease and gradually shifted into his hairline. 

“Since when are you being pulled in to deal with the menial drama of the grunts?” Angeal queried, thumbing through the sheets in his hands as Sephiroth allowed his guard to drop momentarily before his friend, rubbing at his dry eyes when the fatigue finally began to creep in on him. 

“Since the Turks have begun snatching our best candidates from right under our noses and the next best have been ending up recruited by terrorist organisations,” Sephiroth murmured, barely stifling a yawn. “We’ve had half a dozen ex recruits end up on the most wanted list in the past month alone.”

“So what is the expected outcome of you getting involved?” Angeal asked, and Sephiroth let the corner of his mouth lift in impending gratification. 

“Of  _ us  _ getting involved, Commander,” Sephiroth corrected, and Angeal’s frown returned full force as he continued to skim through the papers in his hands. “And the expected outcome is for us to determine - first of all -  _ why _ they’re leaving, secondly - to snatch up candidates prior to Tseng getting his hands on them, and thirdly - to instil some morale and camaraderie amongst the troops. Apparently an increased First Class presence bolsters ambition and drive to join the ranks, so to speak.”

“I thought it was within Turk directive to scout for SOLDIER, what’s Tseng playing at?” Angeal sighed, tossing the folder back into Sephiroth’s desk. 

“Yes, but if they’re able to round the cows up for milking, the belief is that they should also be able to skim off the cream as they see fit. With the losses they’ve sustained in the increase of terrorist activity, I’d say Tseng is looking to pad his unit a little more,” Sephiroth mused, peeling off his gloves and cracking his knuckles as he flexed stiff fingers. He’d perhaps gone a little too hard with the document sign offs for the day. “I can’t say I blame him, but also can’t endorse our own loss of potential.”

“So this is essentially a ShinRa funded pissing contest between you two?” Angeal groused, and Sephiroth couldn’t quite hold back his smirk. 

“Of course not,” he replied smoothly, rolling his wrists in a stretch, before pulling his gloves back on. “But if it were, I’d like to win.”

Angeal sighed again, a weary one that seemed to bubble up from the deepest confines of his soul, before pushing himself up and out of his chair. 

“Genesis is going to hate this,” Angeal offered by way of parting words, and Sephiroth felt a laugh bubble up in his chest as Angeal headed for the door. 

“Yes, I imagine he will.”

* * *

It was a given that Sephiroth drew attention wherever he went.

When he was younger, he found the stares... unsettling. He was an awkward child, deprived of social interaction as it was, and had been all too eager to please and to fit in. Staring meant that he stood out, that he didn’t blend in right, that he wasn’t normal, and so - he hated it. 

He tried cutting his hair once, convinced it was the silver flowing locks that drew the gazes of passers by. He’d shorn right down to the scalp with a set of clippers he’d swiped from a visiting lab technician’s suitcase. It had - infuriatingly - grown back to shoulder length within a week, and Hojo and his lackeys had prodded and poked so much afterward that Sephiroth never tried it again. 

He’d also - quite memorably - tried to dye it on three separate occasions. 

The first, to a black. It didn’t take at all, and the mess it left in the bathroom had left the cleaner so disheartened that Sephiroth had ended up on his hands and knees attempting to assist her in scraping it from the grout work. 

The second time, he figured he’d try a lighter colour - auburn, like one of the lab techs he was fond of - only to end up with it half taking and half not, his splotch patterned hair drawing more attention than the silver ever had. Hojo clipped it himself that time, muttering curses the entire time as Sephiroth glared daggers at him in the mirror.

The third time he aimed for blonde, and he learned the hard way that mako infused hair follicles and bleach did not mix well for anything other than the goal of severely burning his scalp and yet another lecture in a long list from the medical team. So he learned to embrace his hair, and eventually - to love it. 

Still, there were aspects that came about with him that left him little room for anonymity. His early exposure to mako meant he had the glossy-eyed glow of a SOLDIER before SOLDIERs were barely a thing. Mix that with his unusual pupils and he often had people struggling not to stare, whilst simultaneously being compelled to. As he filled out, gained some height and put on the muscle mass, some of the stares changed in their nature, and Sephiroth found himself uncomfortable in a whole new way under the watchful eyes of men and women alike who apparently were very happy with what they were seeing. 

From there, once he was thrust into First Class and earned his reputation as a force of war, the stares varied from lust, to respect, to outright awe - sometimes even fear. 

Over time, his discomfort grew to mild annoyance, and then to begrudging acceptance, so as he silently slid into the lecture hall and propped himself against the door, he determinedly didn’t pay mind to the dozens of eyes that snapped to him and lingered, even whilst the inductor at the front of the class continued on without batting an eyelash. 

It was a smaller group of recruits than usual - forty or so - and Sephiroth was admittedly a little surprised. Even with the increase in talent scouting from the Turks, they were looking at a crowd half of what they’d expect on a regular intake. There were a lot of factors possibly coming into play there, but Sephiroth did have to consider that perhaps ShinRa was simply losing its appeal to the masses. With eco-terrorists having more of a pull than ever before, perhaps there was something Sephiroth was missing in the throng of it that had an allure Shinra wasn’t able to match. 

“...which brings me to the end of my spiel for this morning. Were there any questions?” The inductor wrapped up, as several hands shot into the air. The inductor barely hesitated, before tacking on an addendum of “...that don’t involve the General’s presence here?”

Most hands went down and Sephiroth bit back a smile. Curiosity was not something he frowned upon when selecting candidates. 

“You there, go ahead,” the inductor pointed at a fiery young brunette up front. 

“The amenities - I didn’t notice too many female or unisex ones around as we were doing the tour,” she piped up, and Sephiroth’s interest was piqued. “Is this something ShinRa is looking at changing moving forward? I was led to believe it was a progressive company, but this has made me a little unsure.”

The inductor hesitated a little too long for Sephiroth’s liking as he attempted to compose his response, so the General projected his voice and chimed in. 

“The best way to promote progressiveness is to take charge of it. The company has a diversity and progress committee. If that’s something you’d find yourself passionate about, we would encourage you to get involved, provided it didn’t impact on your primary duties,” Sephiroth stated. “With that said, you’d have allocated time per month to work with the committee on ideas for change. Perhaps you should register, it’s certainly a good idea.”

The young woman flushed and nodded her head, bowing her gaze back to the floor, but not before Sephiroth caught her triumphant smile. 

Passion was another thing he was fond of. The more involved the recruits felt with the company, the quicker and more solidly their loyalties would grow. 

“Thank you, General,” the inductor - Murphy, was it? - nodded gratefully before turning back to the group. “You there - you had your hand up a moment ago. Still had a query?”

A wiry blond with gravity defying hair wordlessly shook his head and offered a weak smile, flicking a glance at Sephiroth before turning his attention back to the notepad before him. 

It wasn’t abnormal for people to be anxious or flustered around Sephiroth, but as the boy turned his gaze away, he seemed…  _ upset _ ? 

That was a new one for the General, one that sat oddly in his chest as he tried to make sense of it. 

He had no time to dwell, however, as the door swung open with the subtlety of a charging behemoth and Genesis swanned in, followed shortly after by a mildly perturbed Angeal, who gave Sephiroth the all too familiar look of ‘I know, I  _ know _ ’ as Sephiroth frowned at Genesis’ blatant disregard of the peace. 

“Ah, Commander Hewley, Commander Rhapsodos, welcome!” The inductor smiled, “I was just taking some questions from our new recruits. The General has assisted a little so far as well.”

“Naturally,” Genesis drawled, flicking Sephiroth a sharp smile that was all teeth. “Our gracious General has always had a knack for leading the way.”

Sephiroth had to remind himself that it would be horrifically inappropriate to flick his subordinate the bird, so merely offered a tight smile in return. 

“I’ve been told that the three of you will be keeping a close personal eye on this group and a handful of the others,” the inductor beamed, as a murmur of chatter broke out amongst the ranks. “Perhaps you’d like to address this lot to tie up their first day?”

“It would be a pleasure,” Angeal nodded, as he approached the inductor’s podium and stood at ease. “My name is Commander Angeal Hewley, First Class SOLDIER and leading officer of the 16th & 17th divisions. To my right is Commander Genesis Rhapsodos, First Class SOLDIER and leading officer of the 14th & 15th divisions. To my left - General Sephiroth, First Class SOLDIER and leading officer of the 12th & 13th divisions and - aside from Director Lazard and the president himself - your most senior report within the company.” There were murmured discussions again as Angeal let the introduction settle in just momentarily. 

Sephiroth exchanged a look with Genesis, who looked to at least be on the same page as him with this, in that the introductions were all but unnecessary. 

He had never come across anybody who didn’t know who they were. 

It wasn’t a statement of arrogance, purely of fact. 

Sephiroth knew that, personally, giant posters of borderline ShinRa propaganda with his stone cold stare on them were plastered across every sector. He knew that Angeal’s face stared down at the citizens in sector 4 from a billboard taller than Ifrit himself, and there wasn’t a LOVELESS poster in all of Midgar that wasn’t within 4 feet of Genesis’ smug grin plastered in laminated A3. Formalities were tiresome, but he knew of their importance in the grand scheme of things, and supported them for the sheer humility that Angeal continued to insist on upholding. 

“It’s been decided that we should have a more active role in determining who will rise up into the ranks and perhaps one day fight side by side with us,” Angeal continued, as the chatter died down a little. “Whilst we have had a relatively active role in the training of the Second Class SOLDIERs, I will admit that the recruits and the Thirds have perhaps received less acknowledgement from their reporting lines than has been warranted. This is something we’re hoping to change. Commander Rhapsodos, General Sephiroth and myself will be observing and - in some instances - actively participating in some of your classes in the coming weeks. Not all of you will have what it takes to make it into SOLDIER, but every position within ShinRa has its place, and we will welcome you into your own for as long as you’ll hold it.” 

With this, Angeal unclipped his sword from his back and rested its point into the podium beside him, balancing it precisely so that it placed no damage into the wood. 

“In ShinRa, in your own personal life - regardless of the titles, the bank account, the prestige that you do or don’t have - you would do well to determine what your own personal values are,”

Angeal’s voice carried firm and true, settling over the recruits as they stared at him with open and rapt admiration. Sephiroth held back a fond smile - this was Angeal’s element, after all. “Once you have determined them, stay true to them. Honesty, integrity, trust - some of mine - all things that will make the choices and the path you take in this company and on this  _ planet  _ all the more easier if you have established the principles you choose to live by. We will be keeping an eye on what those mean to you, how you uphold them for yourself and for your fellow siblings in arms, and how you can apply them to yourself and to this company. All I can say is that I hope not to be disappointed. Are there any questions?”

There was a beat or two of silence as his words percolated, and Sephiroth stewed in them a little himself, before the questions slowly began rolling in.

Angeal was always the better of the three of them in rallying the troops, and for that Sephiroth was almost grateful. Sephiroth had leadership skills - he had to - but his speeches were clinical and crisp. Angeal’s had heart and the kind of sincerity that Sephiroth could envy. Sephiroth could speak with his own Seconds in a level of comfort and understanding that would inspire them in ways that they understood. They knew Sephiroth and the way he worked and he was grateful for how the heat of battle could unite an already cohesive unit into a brotherhood. Angeal, however, could reach out to strangers and warm them to him in ways that Sephiroth never could. 

He chanced another glance at Genesis, who had a soft, thoughtful expression on his face as he watched Angeal speak, and Sephiroth was reminded again that despite the ongoing friction between them, Genesis would forever be at least partially redeemable to him in his unending support for their mutual friend. 

“...I’ll let the General take that one. Sephiroth?” Angeal prompted, and Sephiroth’s attention snapped back to the firm gaze of his friend which was staring him down with the unspoken pointed accusation of ’you weren’t listening, were you?’

“Could you repeat the question, please?” Sephiroth asked, as Angeal’s brow furrowed deeper. 

“I… I just wanted to ask if your morals or your ethical principles differed from Commander Hewley’s, sir,” Sephiroth was surprised to see the blond from earlier holding his gaze boldly and intently, as if preparing to cling to every word of his response, “and if you believe it impacted your career progress - either negatively or positively - in any substantial way?”

Sephiroth faltered. 

He was never asked these kinds of questions.

Whenever there were opportunities for recruits to query the three of them on anything, he was either passed over from fear or intimidation, or asked ‘what’s your favourite part about being in SOLDIER?’ or something equally benign.

Questioning his morals was something that Sephiroth often did, whether by choice or through intrusive thoughts, and most of the time he was able to settle on whether or not what he was doing fell into the neat little box of right or wrong. But the job as a whole... there was a lot of grey in being in SOLDIER. Were his core principles more sound? More inflexible?

“Perhaps,” he offered finally. “Commander Hewley and I often adhere to the same or similar beliefs and practices. It’s a core basis of our strong working relationship, and ensures we are seldom on opposite pages when approaching a problem or situation together. Our journeys through ShinRa and SOLDIER have differed greatly, but we have held consistent common ground. Angeal has mentioned selecting your principles and sticking to them, and I believe we have.”

“Is there one in particular you would hold highest though, sir?” The blond pressed, and Angeal looked as if he were about to intervene regarding follow up questions, but Genesis held a hand out to placate him. 

“I’d like to know that one too, actually,” Genesis admitted, holding Sephiroth’s gaze with open curiosity. “Is there, General?”

Sephiroth held Genesis’ gaze a moment or two longer, thinking back on every mission they had held together, with Angeal or not, and every time he had relied whole heartedly on the one driving force he held close to his heart. In his mind, it held every other factor in between, which was something he couldn’t recall having dwelled on too much in the past, before turning to lock eyes with the blond once again. 

“Loyalty,” he said simply, but with every conviction in the world. “Regardless of my personal feelings over someone in my division or in my team as a whole, I trust that they would have my back as I would have theirs, in any situation that I or they would need it. Honesty, integrity, trust - it all builds toward that core component of loyalty, would you agree?” 

The blond continued holding his eyes, before nodding slowly, the words seemingly sinking in. 

Through it all, Sephiroth could feel Genesis’ gaze on him, not shifting even once. 

The questions continued after that, and Sephiroth found himself answering the ‘best part of SOLDIER’ query after all, as well as questions on what he believed the hardest part of getting into SOLDIER was, the most labour intensive parts, the most mentally challenging etc etc etc. 

Genesis read excerpts from LOVELESS, because of course he did, and answered question upon menial question with the same bored indifference as he did with most things. Angeal was mostly asked about tactics and sword usage, but there was the odd little question here and there thrown in for him too.

Despite all this, the little blond in the third row didn’t speak again, despite Sephiroth being desperately curious for him to do so. 

Every couple of years, Angeal would find someone in the program that caught his eye - someone superior in swordsmanship, someone with a keen eye for materia, someone with the right kind of gumption to make it through the program. He’d take them and either allocate them a second class mentor in their free time, or - with his most recent discovery - take them under his wing himself. Genesis, similarly, would offer the occasional private lesson or two to those in the Third and Second ranks who seemed most determined to succeed. Sephiroth had never found someone of enough interest to pay particular attention to in any of the ranks, let alone in the recruits, so he hadn’t deigned to pay all that much notice in any case. 

When the questions wrapped up and the recruits filtered out, the little blond from the third row scooping up his books and engaging in conversation with another recruit without so much as a glance Sephiroth’s way, the dawning realisation hit him square in the chest that perhaps that habit was about to change. 

* * *

Despite his persistent exhaustion, Sephiroth’s sleep remained broken. 

Genesis consistently made it a habit to side eye him with severe judgment whenever he had caffeine after midday, and had done so earlier that day, but Sephiroth had falsely assumed that not sleeping for the better part of four days would allow him to enter a semi-comatose state and recompense as much of his lost melatonin as he could manage regardless. 

He’d been wrong. 

Hojo had told him once that caffeine was processed more quickly within him than with others and had sneered at the mere mention of Sephiroth consuming it at all, but it was another small act of defiance that Sephiroth chose to revel in in any case, and he was seemingly paying for it now. With all of that considered, he’d take what caffeine he could get, and had poured himself the second mug for the morning before settling in at his desk. 

He pressed a gloved hand to his temple and scrawled his signature over a leave application form for one of his Seconds, before curling his fingers around his steaming mug and taking brief solace in just holding it for a moment. Despite being pumped full of mako and Gaia knew what else, he was not a machine, and there was only so far he could push himself outside of the necessity of wartime requirements. 

He  _ needed _ more sleep. 

He glanced at the clock - a little after 8 - and slowly rubbed at his temple as he drained the mug in a single long pull. The day was going to drag unless he made a conscious decision to alter it from the norm. 

His mind began to drift, and he found himself pulling up the timetables for the latest recruits, knowing he’d have a free couple of hours between 9 and 11, before he became fully conscious of what he was doing. 

He’d had several moments of distraction since two days prior, when they had first gate crashed the induction of the latest batch of Shinra’s future finest and a reserved cadet had stared him down and  _ questioned his principles.  _ Angeal had smiled afterward, Sephiroth still reeling, and made the comment that the cadet may be worth keeping an eye on. Sephiroth had done little more than nod mutely in agreement, as Genesis scoffed and made some comment under his breath. 

His eyes glazed a little as he looked over the - frankly offensive - colour coding of the class schedule before him. He had committed to at least four hours a week of ‘making his presence known’ when the President has first made the suggestion, and had initially assumed it would be enough to get the man off of his back whilst simultaneously filling his spare calendar spaces with anything that  _ wasn’t  _ a meeting with Heidegger or Lazard. As he glanced across the blocks between 9 and 11, he reassessed his enthusiasm for the dozenth time as he saw an ‘ _ Engaging with the Public’ _ block, followed closely after by ‘ _ Materia Theory’ _ \- neither of which he had ever been fond of in his own learnings. 

With that in mind, he settled on the lesser of two evils and shot a quick note to the  _ Materia Theory _ ’s lecturer to advise he’d be sitting in and observing for the 10 o’clock session. The enthusiastic response was almost immediate, and he filed it away before he’d even made it past the first smiley face. 

“I hadn’t expected to actually find you here,” a smooth voice murmured from his ajar door and Sephiroth raised sharp eyes to catch the equally sharp ones of the Turk loitering in his doorway. He gestured at the seat across from his desk and Tseng nodded politely, before closing the door behind him and taking the proffered spot. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sephiroth asked, careful to keep his tone neutral whenever engaging in conversation with the man across from him. 

“I’ve been advised you’ll be taking a more hands on approach with the recruits coming in for the foreseeable future,” Tseng remarked lightly, quietly goading Sephiroth into biting. He held Tseng’s gaze as the Turk smirked just slightly, and the General had to bite back one of his own. 

Despite their clashes at times, his respect for Tseng was resolute. The man was danger personified, and whilst he’d just as likely stab a person in the back than compromise on a mission, Sephiroth somehow trusted that he wouldn’t, at least not with him. It had been several years now, and the relationship he had built with his Turk counterpart had never led him to believe that he was ever in danger or had reason to feel threatened by Tseng beyond their almost playful rivalry. Heidegger, on the other hand…

“Yes. Our talent pool is getting noticeably smaller, and from the pool itself, there seems to be more emerging Turks than there are SOLDIERs,” Sephiroth commented, turning his attention back to the paperwork on his desk and definitely not Tseng’s brow as it quirked in sync with his lip. 

“Oh? I hadn’t been aware,” the Turk remarked lightly, and Sephiroth shook his head just barely, scrawling across a few other leave forms and marking them with a ‘conditionally approved’ stamp. 

“I find it hard to believe something got past you,” Sephiroth said frankly, “but in any case - yes, we’re collectively intending on providing more of a presence amongst the ranks.”

“Titillating, I’m sure.”

“Undeniably.”

“I’ll provide you some intel on our— apologies,  _ the _ latest batch of recruits,” Tseng offered, his smile growing, “but would expect something in return.”

“As you always do,” Sephiroth remarked dryly, placing his pen down and sitting up to offer Tseng his full attention. “I’m listening.”

“There’s a gentleman by the name of Damien Bock amongst the group. Regardless of his progress levels, he’s to remain in the program by any means possible,” Tseng stated. “He cannot be accepted into SOLDIER, regardless of the promise he may display, no questions asked.”

“You’ve cherry picked one already?” Sephiroth asked incredulously. They’d barely even started their training. 

“He will not be entering the Turks either,” Tseng replied vaguely. “Consider this a way for my department to keep a close eye on him for the time being.”

Sephiroth frowned at that. 

“Are you intentionally allowing a threat to mingle with my employees?” He asked, and Tseng tutted, fixing Sephiroth with a level stare. 

“I’m disappointed you would assume those to be my intentions, General. He poses no threat at this point or any time in the near future, rest assured. If he  _ were _ to begin to cause problems…” Tseng picked up the pen knife on Sephiroth’s desk and idly toyed with it for a moment, twirling it across his fingers in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it sleight of hand display, before lodging it firmly into the general’s desk. “...He would be dealt with.”

Sephiroth leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as his amusement grew. 

“I’d have thought you beyond theatrics, Tseng,” he mused, and the Turk plucked the knife from the desk, laying it flat across the surface once more. 

“Never,” Tseng said flatly, and Sephiroth huffed out a laugh. 

“Very well. I will agree to that condition. What can you tell me regarding this group?”

Tseng gave him a look that promised him a response of ‘everything’, and reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a stack of papers - annotated employee files. Sephiroth took it between his fingers and flicked his gaze over ten staples. 

“A quarter of the group?” He queried, and Tseng nodded stiffly. 

“Some candidates may not be suitable for your program, but they may still be of interest in other ways,” Tseng offered vaguely, and Sephiroth bit back his mild annoyance at how every conversation with a Turk seemed to turn into an exchanging of riddles. 

“Your assistance is appreciated,” Sephiroth offered instead, “was there anything else?”

“Nothing at all. I’ll leave you to your reading,” Tseng tipped his head in departure, turning on his heel and heading for the door. “And General? Try to get some sleep - you look a little under the weather.”

“Noted,” Sephiroth murmured to himself, his counterpart already out the door, as he began the arduous task of reading through his allocated homework. 

Another coffee and an hour and a half later and Sephiroth had managed to sign off on four other leave requests, the issuing of some new ID cards and picked through the files passed to him with a fine tooth comb. With it came a niggling feeling of disappointment that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It wasn’t until he’d packed himself up and headed for the recruits that he realised he’d been disappointed with the selection, purely because a part of him had expected to see blond spikes amongst the allocated head shots. As he stepped into  _ Materia Theory  _ and found that class to be decidedly blond free as well, the disappointment continued to sit like a heavy stone within his stomach. 

It was absolutely  _ ridiculous _ \- to allow his thoughts to dwell on someone he didn’t even know - but it sat there regardless, a leaden weight that left a bitter taste on his tongue. 

He ended up speaking to the class briefly when called upon by the professor. 

When it came time for questions, not a single hand was raised, and the weight only grew heavier. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the love so far! I wasn’t sure how I’d go with starting to post again, but you’ve all been very encouraging so far. Greatly appreciated ;-; 
> 
> Also - apologies for any odd formatting goofs or auto corrects, I write entirely on my phone and am a self confessed lazy beta reader for myself. My bad.

Sephiroth had - perhaps naively - assumed that the gathering of intel within ShinRa walls would be easier than his previous experiences with… ‘extraction’... across enemy lines. 

So far he had barely gotten a word out of a single recruit, other than a strained polite greeting from the cadet he’d offered his assistance with during Materia Theory and the insistence that the cadet was all good, thanks so much though sir, it’s very much appreciated sir. 

He’d sat in on three lessons so far, before Angeal had suggested that he maybe try a different class where he’d be better placed to be actively engaged with the recruits. 

“Theory is all good and well, but you’re essentially seated at a desk and listening in to a lecture, which doesn’t differentiate you much from a student,” the Commander had explained as they walked away from the lecture halls. “You’d be better placed in practical lessons, something that gives you one on one opportunity to engage with them. Genesis has been stepping in during Materia Practices and…”

Sephiroth had zoned out for the most part at that, nodding his head periodically as he turned the suggestion over in his mind. 

There was the opportunity to coach in  _ Practical Swordwork _ , he supposed, although he sometimes got a little carried away with the Seconds whilst partaking and imagined the disadvantage to an unenhanced recruit would be borderline cruel. His height and weight class often also made  _ Hand to Hand Combat  _ unfair for the average person. Whilst he had talent in the casting of Materia, he would (internally) admit that Genesis was the gifted one in that area, and whilst the gathering of information and the boosting of morale was important, ensuring that the recruits were getting the best opportunities within their lessons was something Sephiroth considered tantamount. 

He’d operated on auto pilot then as Angeal walked alongside him, quietly tossing out his own theories and possibilities on the disappearances, with Sephiroth wondering if he was perhaps a little out of his depth in how to approach this particular challenge. He was a problem solver - it was an acquired and finely honed skill. This should be simple, but-... He was  _ tired _ . As soon as he was beginning to turn a thought over, he’d lose it to the expanse of his own mind, fog creeping in where coherence had previously been churning through. He’d seldom had such trouble in his pursuits of sleep, and when he had, exhaustion had usually sought to force him into slumber for enough time to reset the bodily requirements for it that he’d had. Lately, however, he was less prone to exhaustion and more prone to distance and a muddy swirl of conscience too thick to wade through and too loud to silence. 

“...been near impossible to get anything out of you today,” Angeal’s concerned tone permeated his attention and he flicked his eyes to Angeal’s face as the Commander frowned and placed a hand on Sephiroth’s arm to pull him up in the middle of a corridor. “Are you alright? I haven’t seen you this distracted since we got back from the East.”

Sephiroth glanced down the halls and dropped his shoulders a little, along with some of his guard when he found the halls deserted, and he pressed gloved fingers to his temples, rubbing in his attempts to clear some of the internal clutter. 

“It’s… a myriad of things,” he admitted quietly. “There’s a lot on my mind and not enough space for it. Too much noise.”

“And you’re still not sleeping?” Angeal queried, brow furrowing deeper. 

“Some,” Sephiroth reassured, “but quality is lacking. Interrupted. I don’t think I’m getting enough, but I’m unsure of how to rectify the issue and it’s… causing frustration.”

Angeal hesitated briefly and Sephiroth knew the words that were about to leave his mouth before his lips had even parted. 

“Have you considered perhaps heading to-...”

Sephiroth was bristling before Angeal had even finished his suggestion to speak with Hojo about it, and Angeal let his words die off as Sephiroth’s guard immediately slammed up again. The Commander let out a long suffering sigh and reached out a hand to rest on Sephiroth’s forearm, offering a light squeeze, before gently letting his hand drop away. 

“It definitely wasn’t my best suggestion,” Angeal admitted quietly, apologetically, “but I’m almost at a loss here.”

Sephiroth allowed some of the ratcheting tension in him to seep away, for Angeal’s sake if nothing else, and nodded stiffly. 

“I understand your intentions are good,” Sephiroth reassured. “His seldom are, however.” Angeal’s gaze fell from his own, a flash of anger behind them, and Sephiroth reached out a hand of his own to squeeze his friend’s shoulder placatingly. “I will manage, but thank you.”

“Do you want me to speak with Lazard about maybe-“ Angeal began, but stopped as a third party entered the hall. It was at that point that Sephiroth’s distraction piqued, as the recruit locked eyes with him and Sephiroth felt the bright blue gaze punch into him like a wrecking ball. 

“General, Commander,” the blond nodded, flicking them a quick salute as he approached. 

“Cadet,” Angeal acknowledged in return. Sephiroth nodded dumbly, and the blond offered the barest hint of a smile as Sephiroth watched him pass. 

Sephiroth swallowed thickly around an oddly dry throat, and finally pulled his eyes away to offer Angeal his returned attention, only to find his friend with raised brows and a clearly amused grin inching onto his face. 

“That was… interesting,” Angeal remarked lightly, and Sephiroth - despite his hatred of the scientist - was grateful to Hojo for his extra mako treatments and training, which had very nearly crushed his ability to blush beyond the creeping heat at the back of his neck. 

“Have you eaten?” Sephiroth asked, nowhere near as smooth of a transition away from the situation as he’d have liked, but Angeal graciously accepted it regardless, stifling his grin as much as he could manage. 

“I could eat, sure,” the Commander lifted a shoulder in a feigned shrug of nonchalance. “I’ll rally the troops.”

Sephiroth nodded, before firing into a discussion on how he thought ShinRa’s training system could do with an overhaul as he’d noticed a few outdated inconsistencies while he’d sat in on the lectures he had. Angeal politely nodded along, both parties fully aware that the elephant in the room would not stay unmentioned forever. 

Sephiroth would take the peace he could get while he could get it, as he resolutely tried not to think of the cadet who had stared him down with all the confidence in the world and not a shred of the trepidation that Sephiroth had come to expect. 

* * *

Sephiroth didn’t have terribly too much to do with Zack Fair, a fact that didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

The man was too much energy in a singular package - too much positivity to endure when the heavy cloud of fatigue still draped over the General like a weighted blanket - but endure Sephiroth did, for the simple fact that Zack’s presence appeared to have the dual benefit of both pleasing Angeal and of giving Genesis somebody else to bother. 

Additionally and in spite of all of this, Zack’s company was pleasant enough, and Sephiroth could begrudgingly admit that the Second was growing on him with every instance Angeal insisted they all share a meal. 

“Oh man, some of the shit that - sorry, sir -  _ stuff _ ,” Zack hastily corrected himself, waving a handful of fries around with reckless abandon as he side eyed Sephiroth for a negative reaction. “Some of the  _ stuff  _ they have in those VR rooms should be outlawed. There’s a rumour that when you get to the higher levels,  _ you  _ guys are the bosses. Is that true or one of those things they use to stir up the new recruits?”

“You can definitely fight Sephiroth, I know that much. I have spent  _ countless _ hours in that one,” Genesis smirked, and Sephiroth held his gaze with an all too familiar rising challenge.

“You can fight each of us, yes,” Angeal affirmed, before pointing his fork back and forth between Sephiroth and Genesis. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for either of you to be messing around in there, so don’t get any ideas. Genesis, you’re about three days behind on paperwork as it is, and Sephiroth - I don’t want to seem like I’m pushing here, but it looks like one stiff aero in your direction and you’ll be carried away on the breeze.”

“Your concern is appreciated,” Sephiroth smiled softly as he held Angeal’s gaze for a moment, knowing that it was a way for Angeal to garner support for their previous conversation, before turning his attention back to his salad bowl and spearing a wilting cucumber slice with his spork. “Once we’ve ironed out the problems with the recruits, I’ll endeavour to take leave.”

“ _ Endeavour _ ?” Genesis scoffed and cocked a brow. “You’re a shadow of a man before us. You’d do well to allocate a little more time to the scheduled maintenance of one of ShinRa’s shiniest cogs, lest the whole machine deigns to fall apart in a shower of sparks and a billow of smoke - or something along those lines…”

“I could be wrong, but I believe he means you. I think you’re the cog,” Angeal remarked dryly, and Genesis merely smirked as Sephiroth cocked his own brow and swallowed a cherry tomato. Zack snickered into his burger. 

“I hadn't realised you cared so deeply, Commander,” Sephiroth teased, and Genesis scoffed again. 

“Don’t flatter yourself. My concern lies with Angeal. The less you’re around to do your own work, the more he has to cover and - consequently - the less time I have with him,” Genesis remarked airily, waving a hand flippantly as he idly thumbed through the pages of his book. “Good friends are hard to come by, as I’m sure you know _ spectacularly  _ well.”

It was another one of the regular barbed jabs that Genesis decided to throw Sephiroth’s way - his lack of solid friendships - and one that always received an instant admonishing stare from Angeal. Sephiroth continued to get more satisfaction from Angeal fixing that stare on Genesis than any rise Genesis expected from the General, but it was a card Gen insisted on playing regardless. 

“So— what issue with the recruits?” Zack asked around a mouthful of food, as Angeal’s admonishing stare then shifted to his protégé and his lack of table manners. 

“I understand you come from a… ‘backwater town’,” Angeal frowned, “but I doubt you were raised by cows.”

Zack had the sense to look sheepish as he finished his mouthful, before looking around at the table expectantly. 

“So? Recruits?”

“It’s currently information granted on a need to know basis,” Sephiroth explained, and Zack nodded expectantly. 

“And you  _ don’t  _ need to know, puppy,” Genesis clarified, tossing his napkin at the Second Class as Zack grinned in return. 

“That’s subjective,” Zack commented lightly, before leaning forward on his forearms and dropping his voice. “Does it have anything to do with the influx of former ShinRa drones to terrorist factions?”

Angeal’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. 

“I’m not sure I want to know how you got that information.”

“The troops talk,” Zack shrugged. “At drill sessions, in the halls, I’ve even heard things in here.” He gestured at the cafeteria around them. “Word gets around.” 

Sephiroth frowned. 

“We’ve not heard anybody speak of it.” 

Zack awkwardly ran a hand over his own hair and Sephiroth watched in interest as it briefly lay flat and then sprung back up again with vigour. He briefly entertained the thought of similarly styled hair, decidedly more blond, and whether or not it would behave in the same manner. 

He then fiercely squashed that down and shoved entirely too much chicken into his mouth as Zack stretched in his chair. 

“That’s probably because a majority of the grunts are, you know, super intimidated by you guys,” Zack grinned. “I was too, at least at first.”

“Maybe you still should be,” Genesis all but leered, and Angeal pointedly kicked him under the table as Zack’s ears burned red and the Second laughed. 

“What changed?” Sephiroth asked, curiosity piqued. 

“You guys stopped being these high ranking superheroes and became, you know-“ Zack shrugged, finishing his own fries and snagging some from Angeal’s plate. “You guys. Human beings. Regular dudes. Friends.”

Genesis rolled his eyes and offered up some smartass remark, which brushed along the edge of Sephiroth’s awareness but failed to penetrate, as he idly chewed on his disappointing salad and frowned into his spinach like it had all the answers. 

So he could just… be himself and people would _appreciate_ him for who he was as a _person_? Surely it wasn’t that simple. 

He wasn’t completely socially inept. He attended social events and left overall positive impressions, he got along very well with his divisions, he’d been asked to tag along to lunches and brunches and Gaia knows what else for reasons beyond his position and reluctant fame. He just wasn’t sure how he’d ever achieved the migration from ‘acquaintance’ to ‘friend’ with anyone he’d known.

Angeal sort of shouldered his way in, begrudgingly fighting alongside Sephiroth in Wutai until a few well placed dry comments from both parties had the pair of them realising that - if nothing else - their senses of humour aligned. From there, it quickly became apparent that they had more in common than they realised. 

Genesis was - a package deal, really. Sephiroth had accepted Genesis as a part of being friends with Angeal, and Gen had seemingly done the same. Angeal had suggested to Sephiroth once that despite their shared animosities, Sephiroth and Genesis probably had more in common than either of them were willing to discuss. That suited Sephiroth fine; the less said about it the better.

Zack certainly seemed to think that he and Sephiroth were friends, and Sephiroth - personally - felt that they had very little in common at all. He enjoyed Zack’s company and the man was sharper than he looked - his insight was often a combination of intelligent and entertaining, which Sephiroth was capable of enjoying in its most base form. Was that enough to warrant friendship, however? 

He wasn’t a fool, he knew it was easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar and was well aware that if he were to work on his social skills it would help him immensely. He could understand - on some level - that there was an expectation of intimidation toward him, but was also aware on a more personal level that unless an individual was on the opposite end of masamune, Sephiroth was no threat. Angeal had possibly had a point with more close-quartered interaction proving beneficial, but Sephiroth was hesitant to attempt it. His reputation, at times, was a helpful tool in its own right. 

“Sounds good to me!” Zack grinned, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he watched Sephiroth with growing trepidation. 

Sephiroth wished that - for once - he could hold attention on  _ any  _ conversation that may result in a requirement for him to respond, as he flicked his eyes to Angeal, who let out a soft sigh. 

“Welcome back, viewers. If you’re just joining us, we were discussing the fact that as part of his Second Class assessments, Zack’s started up a class on Acrobatics Within Combat,” Angeal remarked dryly, and Genesis snorted into his drink as he side eyed Sephiroth in amusement. “I suggested that the General may benefit from observing the class and aid in perhaps giving Zack a hand while he’s at it.”

Sephiroth arched a brow at this. 

“ _ Acrobatics _ ?” He hummed sceptically, and Zack’s smile stuttered on his face. Angeal frowned. 

“It’s been signed off by the Director, whether you’re particularly fond of the idea or not,” the Commander said stiffly. 

Sephiroth grimaced and shook his head. 

“The course itself is not my concern. I’m fully supportive of anything that will enhance agility amongst the masses. It’s an excellent idea,” Sephiroth offered with a note of apology, and Zack’s grin returned full force. “But I would have assumed that the more fitting displays of agility amongst us would come from Gen.”

Genesis looked momentarily surprised by the acknowledgment, before schooling his face into something decidedly more akin to ‘infuriatingly smug’. 

Sephiroth expected some sort of biting comment from Genesis in response, but he didn’t say a word.

Somehow that was worse. 

“You can and have demonstrated just as much prowess as Genesis, on occasion,” Angeal remarked, and Genesis only grew more smug. “Besides, today’s lesson clashes with Practical Materia, which Gen’s already committed to.”

“Apologies, General,” Genesis finally chimed in, tucking his book into his coat and flicking a glance to the clock on the wall. He then tutted, picking up his tray from lunch and beginning to coax his rubbish into the corner of the tray. “Speaking of, I ought to prepare. Terribly busy, I’m afraid - and I have a slew of people to please.”

Genesis gave a little wave as he turned to take his tray to the trash and Sephiroth let out an exaggerated hum. 

“You’re right, I  _ do _ feel more pleased,” Sephiroth said dryly toward Gen’s retreating figure. 

Genesis found enough time in his busy schedule to briefly shoot daggers Sephiroth’s way, before forcing a smirk and striding for the door. 

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you or anything, sir,” Zack offered into the ensuing peace that always settled whenever Genesis left an area. 

“You don’t need formalities when we’re sharing a meal,” Sephiroth replied, tossing his napkin into his mostly finished salad and picking up his own tray as he stood. “And I have no qualms with attending your lesson.”

“Great!” Zack beamed, standing up as well as Angeal followed stride. “You shouldn’t need anything first lesson. I’ll walk them through some demonstrations first up. I’ll maybe need a partner for that. Maybe a casual spar. Would that be okay, si-... Uh, Seph-...iroth?”

There was a pregnant pause where Angeal gave Zack an odd look between exasperation, confusion and overwhelming fondness. 

“Seph is acceptable, if you wish to use it,” Sephiroth assured the Second, who looked physically strained with his cacophony of perceived social faux pas. “And yes, that will be fine.”

“For real?! That’s great! Thanks heaps, I’ll make sure you’re swept off your feet,” Zack beamed, offering a little salute before beginning to jog backwards towards the door. “I have about a million things to do, I’ll see you in halfa!”

“Halfa?” Sephiroth turned a raised brow to Angeal, Zack already well and truly gone, and the Commander lifted his shoulder in a shrug. 

“Half an hour, I’d say. I initially thought it was a by-product of being a country boy, but I think it’s just… Zack,” Angeal huffed a laugh, shaking his head fondly as he put his tray down on the counter along with Sephiroth’s. “You didn’t have to say yes, but I’m glad you did. I think you’ll both get a lot out of it.”

“One can only hope,” Sephiroth replied through a stifled yawn, fatigue prickling at the edge of his consciousness still. 

One more coffee, he reasoned with himself, as Angeal side eyed him with concern and struck up idle chatter about how he was getting too old for the cafeteria food and related indigestion. 

It was all white noise by that point, but he took comfort in his friend’s familiar tone as he grabbed a cup and helped himself to another steaming brew. 

If he could make it through the day, maybe tonight would be the night he managed to recuperate. 

It was a fleeting thought, but one he clung to with a modicum of desperation. 

* * *

Sephiroth determined that if he were to explore the potential of friendship with Zack in more, he could probably benefit from putting a little more effort into it from his end. 

Once he and Angeal had parted ways, he pulled out his PHS and brought up the calendar invite Zack had already sent him. Seemed Zack’s lesson was effectively around the corner, so he took the few turns required to head straight there and gently rapped his knuckles on the door. A flustered Zack flung it open, before his eyes widened and he laughed in embarrassment. 

“Hey! Sorry, I wasn’t expecting— you know, it doesn’t matter actually. What’s up?” Zack prattled off, near breathless, and Sephiroth eyed the haphazard stack of floor mats piled up behind the Second. 

“Have you— are you yet to unpack the mats?” Sephiroth asked and Zack flushed, letting out another flustered laugh. 

“I hadn’t originally planned on having lunch with you guys. My lunch break was gonna be used for lesson set up, but then ‘Geal texted and invited me and I have a hard time telling him no,” Zack admitted, and Sephiroth could absolutely relate. “Anyway, I’m rambling. I know it’s poor planning on my behalf, but I hope you’re not seeing this as a reflection on my skills as a mentor.”

Sephiroth shook his head and stepped into the room as Zack shuffled aside and cleared a path. 

“Not in the slightest. I struggled with my first few lessons myself. I was… not the most personable individual in the world,” Sephiroth admitted. “I’m still not, although I imagine you’ve gathered that.”

Zack grinned. 

“I know we met through Geal and I’m still maybe a little caught up on you being the General, but I meant what I said earlier. You’ve been a lot less intimidating from day one. You’re actually a pretty cool guy,” Zack offered, and the sincerity on his face just about sucker punched Sephiroth. 

“I appreciate it. You’re— you live up to your reputation as a puppy,” Sephiroth remarked, and Zack snorted. “With that said, I’ve recognised you’re also a lot more than that.”

“That means a lot, sir. Thank you,” Zack’s grin softened into something a little more fond and familiar and Sephiroth suddenly felt abruptly uncomfortable. This - this exchange of compliments and sincerity - it was beyond him. 

Instead of a response, he merely nodded and began to wordlessly move the mats Zack had abandoned in answering the door, and Sephiroth was more than content listening to the Second prattle on about - seemingly - whatever hit his stream of conscience. 

From the moment the first recruit tentatively stepped into the room with a wobbly smile and wide eyed stare on seeing Sephiroth, however, Zack was a vision of seriousness and determination, and Sephiroth was quietly impressed with the level of dedication the Second seemed willing to commit. The stream of recruits was a steady one then, and Sephiroth noted that this seemed to be a popular class, despite it being a brand new one. As he spotted a few Third Class SOLDIERs filtering in, he wondered if it didn’t have something to do with the teacher. 

Zack was popular amongst the SOLDIERs, Sephiroth knew that much. He reportedly had good leadership skills, and Sephiroth had seen Zack’s talent in the field first hand on more than one instance. He was sharp, fierce and a force to be reckoned with. Along with that, he was charismatic, friendly and all around an energising presence to be around - all things that Sephiroth seemed to struggle to achieve. He didn’t have any time to brood over the thought, however, as a now-familiar blond walked through the door and strode to a mat front and centre. 

Sephiroth hoped he was successfully schooling his expression into something indifferent and decidedly not the jittery energy he was feeling skittering up and down his spine. The blond was chatting with one of the recruits beside him, who was side eyeing off Sephiroth in apparent anxiousness, before she made a comment and the blond turned to look straight at Sephiroth, all but pinning the General in place. The blond offered Sephiroth yet another small smile and the briefest of nods, before turning his attention back to his friend, who was staring at him as if he were a madman. 

Sephiroth was stunned. 

“You all good?” Zack asked, and Sephiroth snapped his gaze to Angeal’s protégé, who was doing some light stretching as the group settled in. 

“I’d say so. I’ll need to shed my coat,” Sephiroth murmured, gaze grazing the room for a rack or something equally suitable. “Shall I take your cues?” 

“This one’s more of an attention grabber and demonstration,” Zack nodded. “I’m wanting to pull them in and hopefully persuade them to come back. If it all goes well, maybe I could get all three of you into a session in the VR rooms for the group to observe?” 

His grin was charming enough that Sephiroth was suddenly incredibly aware of why Angeal seemed unable to tell the kid ‘no’. 

“We’ll see,” Sephiroth offered noncommittally, knowing full well that he’d be in attendance before Zack had even finished asking.

“Keen!” The second grinned even wider, before bringing himself into something a little more neutral and clearing his throat to address the hall. “Alright, off a head count I think I’ve got everyone here. Pass the attendance sheet around and allow me to take a moment to welcome you to the inaugural class for Acrobatics Within Combat. Please don’t judge me for the name, it was proposed by the director. I wanted ‘Spin Kicks To Victory’, but sometimes you need to pick your battles.”

This brought a round of muffled laughter, and some of Zack’s seriousness smoothed from his face. Sephiroth watched as the blond scrawled his name, noted that he was the sixth to do so, and resolutely tried to tell himself he wasn’t making note of that for future review. 

“I’m Captain Zack Fair, SOLDIER second class, and your primary instructor for this lesson. I’m sure most of you have noticed my surprise guest for the day,” Zack gestured at Sephiroth, who offered a small nod in acknowledgment as his gaze scanned the group. He determinedly didn’t settle on anyone in particular, but he did catch the striking blue gaze he was trying to avoid for just long enough to feel unsettled all over again. 

Sephiroth wasn’t a teenager any more, not in the slightest, but he certainly felt like one as an odd flutter in his stomach made itself painfully aware. He knew exactly what that meant and he loathed it. 

Gaia, he was seemingly developing a  _ crush _ like some pubescent mess, purely because this bold young man had managed to hold his gaze a few times and ask some interesting questions. 

“The General has graciously accepted my invitation to attend today, but for the most part, you’ll be stuck with me,” Zack continued. “I’ve fought and studied alongside a few of you here today and I’m thrilled to see you. For the rest of you that are new to ShinRa and - for some of you - combat itself, a lot of you will get your combat skills from your basic courses. I know Commander Hewley and Second Captain Whittaker absolutely ground you all into the dirt this morning, so you’ll be pleased to hear we won’t be getting into anything too strenuous for the first few months of this course. We’ll primarily be looking at stretching and maneuverability whilst handling a weapon, and when you’ve all started to stack on some muscle mass and managed to perfect some drills, we’ll add in the bonus of doing some cool flips and the likes right in the middle of them.”

There were some growing smiles among the masses, and Sephiroth was pleasantly surprised to see that most of the class’ attention was firmly on the Captain. 

Zack held their attention as he spoke, covering some more of the coursework at hand, and when Sephiroth could feel him getting to the crux of it, he rolled his shoulders and detached Masamune, propping it gently against the wall before he began shucking off his coat. As expected, Zack wrapped up his explanation and grinned as he turned to find Sephiroth coatless and flexing his gloves around the hilt of his sword. He dropped his voice and leaned in to murmur a “please don’t kill me” as Sephiroth smirked, before returning back to the group. 

“I’ll admit I’m a little nervous - going up against Sephiroth one on one isn’t really something that I’d ever be advising someone to do,” Zack admitted. “If I didn’t trust him to hold back and  _ not _ smear me across the mats, we’d not be here, but I can’t stress enough how important it is to never underestimate an opponent. Advice for yourselves, or for the General? Let’s find out.”

Zack winked, causing Sephiroth to cock an eyebrow and there were a few more scattered laughs. 

“We’ll start slow. Standard combat drills. Feel free to get a little carried away if you’re comfortable with it, but I was serious about not being smeared,” Zack grinned, and Sephiroth huffed a laugh as he flicked Masamune out, the sharp snap of it through the air ringing through his ears in a distinctly satisfying way. He watched Zack’s pupils dilate at the surge of adrenaline that accompanied it and he knew that it was  _ on _ . 

Zack was fast - more than any of the other Seconds, possibly even more so than Angeal - and Sephiroth felt his own surge of surprised delight rush through him as Zack’s blade clashed with his own. Sephiroth deflected it and went through the motions of putting on a display without pushing Zack too hard too fast. Drills were something repetitive, robotic, not enough of a challenge to break a sweat but intensive enough to begin pumping the blood. Genesis had a firm control of the elements, Angeal rallied a crowd and inspired masses like Sephiroth had never seen, but this - the clashing of blades and the shifting of sinew - this was Sephiroth’s forte. 

Zack made a move to deviate from the norm, ducking from a swing of Sephiroth’s and sweeping beneath him, his sword on a path for Sephiroth’s ankle in what would have been a crippling move on anyone slower. Sephiroth stepped up, springboarding off of the sword itself, before using his next step to get a foothold right between Zack’s shoulders, pushing him firmly into the mat beneath them and backflipping to land behind the Second, sword ready and waiting for the next move. He heard Zack laugh into the padding, pushing himself up on both of his hands as he sprung back to his feet. In a fluid turn, he used his momentum on his twisting rise to clash against Masamune with a ringing clang, using the edge to push Sephiroth back just enough to readjust his footing. Zack used that minute change of stance, knowing Sephiroth would now have to push forward from his non-dominant foot, and spun to lash out again. 

Sephiroth was impressed enough to stop toying with the Captain. 

He deflected the sword on its next strike and shifted back into stance, leaping up and unleashing a flurry of moves. Zack held his own for the most part, but staggered just slightly under the relenting pressure. Sephiroth took the opportunity to push the Second back with a firm press to the solar plexus, and he delighted in the soft punch of air from Zack’s mouth, before he slammed Masamune in an arcing blow, Zack holding his sword above his head against the flat of his hand, and pushing back with as much force as he could muster. Sephiroth increased his pressure, and one of Zack’s knees gave out as he dropped to it, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. Sephiroth stared down into his opponent’s eyes, watching the gears grinding behind them, and watched as the idea formed in Zack’s mind. Even with this, he was surprised when Zack intentionally eased up his defence, letting his back drop to the ground and using the motion to push his slack leg into Masamune to roll himself backward, just out of its reach. Sephiroth’s smile grew and Zack wheezed as he allowed his roll to continue and he fell intentionally back onto his ass, legs splayed out in front of him as he let out a low whistle. 

“How are you… composed?” He murmured, just quietly enough for Sephiroth to hear, and the General let a low rumble of a laugh reverb through his chest as he put Masamune aside and held a hand out for the other to take. 

Zack did so with a grin, and allowed Sephiroth to pull him up as a smattering of applause broke out. 

“Thanks sir,” Zack grinned, before facing the group and placing a hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder. The General rolled his head on his neck and flexed his fingers where they were curved around the hilt of his blade. “That sure was something, right guys?”

The group nodded enthusiastically, as chatter broke out among the masses and Zack’s grip fell from Sephiroth’s shoulder. Sephiroth felt strangely bereft at the loss, but also turned to face the group, who were clearly enthused. 

“Who here was expecting me to get absolutely creamed within ten seconds flat?” Zack asked, and a large part of the group cheekily raised their hands, many of which were the Third Class SOLDIERs that Fair already knew. “Okay, and who thinks that definitely would have happened if the General hadn’t have gone easy on me?” Sephiroth raised his hand with that group, which shocked a laugh out of them and filled him with a flush of satisfaction. 

Especially when he heard a peal from the blond in the front. 

One of the group held up their hand and held out the attendance roll for Zack to take now that things had settled a little, and Sephiroth stepped forward to grasp it instead as the Captain continued his discussion with the group. Sephiroth listened with some intent, hearing Zack highlight the importance of utilising your weight, your speed, and your flexibility to get yourself out of seemingly hopeless situations. He heard him say something about not giving up, even when you thought things  _ were _ hopeless, and there was another cheeky remark from one of the recruits about how it very much looked like that’s what Zack had done. 

A majority of Sephiroth’s attention, however, was honed in on the near printed name in the sixth box of the attendance roll, especially when the blond at the front started asking some tactical questions that were clearly impressing Zack and his fellow recruits in turn. 

_ Cloud Strife _ . 

Sephiroth looked up from the form once the blond had fallen quiet and Zack had moved on, only to find that said blond was staring directly at him, seemingly amused. 

Sephiroth felt… sprung. 

Surely the blond -  _ Cloud _ \- couldn’t have known Sephiroth’s intentions in taking the sheet?

“In any case, I talked way too much and we ran a little over today, but I wanted to thank General Sephiroth for taking time out of his day to personally kick my ass,” Zack grinned, “and I look forward to seeing you all next week.”

The group stood and began collecting their gear, as a couple of the Thirds approached Zack and jostled him a little as they thanked him for the lesson. Sephiroth watched as the blond headed for the door, something akin to panic bubbling up in the General’s chest even as he schooled his expression into total neutrality. 

“Cadet Strife?” Sephiroth called out before he could change his mind, and several people faltered in surprise at hearing the call, as Cloud turned around with a questioning expression. 

“Yes sir?”

“A moment, please?” Sephiroth pressed, and the blond nodded, palming his rucksack off to his friend as she stared at him with a slack jaw and wide eyes. She murmured something and Cloud smiled, patting her shoulder and sending her on her way with some platitude. 

Sephiroth had been all but desperate for an opportunity to spend more time conversing with the blond before him, but now that he had it, he hadn’t the faintest clue where he was going to go from there. 

“Is something wrong, sir?” Cloud asked, and Sephiroth shook his head. 

“I—… was impressed with your line of questioning,” he admitted stiffly. “Have you studied tactics elsewhere?”

“I did a  _ lot _ of reading in the libraries in my hometown, sir. A fair amount of time spent on the internet, reviewing videos,” the blond raised a hand and scratched at the back of his head, a gesture so akin to Zack that Sephiroth was momentarily taken aback. “I’ve— wanted to be in SOLDIER for a long time.”

Sephiroth nodded, curious. 

“For fame? For glory? To be a hero?” Sephiroth hazarded a guess, and Cloud shook his head. 

“With all due respect, sir… Enough young people have been sent to fight in wars for reasons they’re not even sure of, that they don’t believe in, for a company that doesn’t adhere to their own code of conduct,” Cloud said bluntly, as if discussing something as banal as the weather. “Something has to change. I want a chance to be a part of that change. ShinRa could do more, be more - as could the SOLDIERs within it. Sir.”

Sephiroth - for possibly the first time in his life - was completely and utterly lost for words. 

“That’s ambitious, cadet. To believe that one person can have such a…  _ profound _ impact,” Sephiroth mused, and Cloud swallowed thickly, holding Sephiroth’s gaze once again. It was the first sign of nervousness he’d displayed, and Sephiroth watched the action with intrigue. 

“ _ You _ do, sir,” Cloud said quietly and with absolute conviction, and a part of Sephiroth unfurled at the softly spoken statement. “Permission to be excused, sir? I’m going to be late for training.” 

Sephiroth nodded wordlessly, his tongue thick in his mouth as Cloud saluted and turned on his heel, jogging to catch up with his friend. 

There were a few beats of silence as the rest of the group finally finished shuffling out of the hall, before Zack cleared his throat. 

“So who was that?” Zack asked with nil tact and full intrigue, and Sephiroth’s lip lifted just slightly. 

“Cloud Strife,” he said simply, and Zack made a soft ‘huh’ sound, before starting to pick up the scattered mats across the floor. 

Sephiroth appreciated the uncharacteristic silence that followed as he assisted with collecting the mats, and replayed the conversation in his mind until the words had imprinted in his skull. 

_ You do, sir.  _

Sephiroth took a moment to recognise that he may be in trouble, before pulling himself from his musings and offering his praise to Zack for a lesson well done.


	3. Chapter 3

“General, forgive me if this is out of turn, but I can’t help but feel there’s something a little more going on here than an overly zealous breeding season,” Sergeant McKechnie murmured, and Sephiroth couldn’t help but agree, as he used his boot to nudge the particularly large Behemoth bleeding out on the soil before them, its tongue lolling from its mouth and a putrid yellow goo oozing out. McKechnie paled but managed to hold himself together right up until the smell hit them all, and he and a handful of the other Seconds heaved violently. Sephiroth’s own nose wrinkled in distaste, before he slid the tip of Masamune along the creature’s throat and allowed more of the fluid to gush out. 

McKechnie couldn’t keep his dinner in, expelling it into a nearby trash can, half crumpled in their earlier battle with the beast. 

“What  _ is _ that?” the Second asked, once he’d sucked in some fresh air. Sephiroth stooped and stuck a finger into the material, finding it viscous, before bringing it closer to his nose and breathing in on a hunch. McKechnie heaved again, as Sephiroth fought back his own rush of unexpected nausea. 

“It’s a tainted Hyper,” Sephiroth mused. He hadn’t seen one of those in  _ years _ . How fascinating. 

“Tainted?” McKechnie asked, eyeing off the goo still steadily oozing from the creature. 

“Yes. Given enough time and knowledge, a skilled alchemist has the potential to imbue a potion or other enhanced liquid with poison or something similarly toxic,” Sephiroth explained, gesturing at one of the field techs to come over and taking an empty vial from the girl’s rucksack. He took out the stopper and scooped up some of the liquid, replacing it as quickly as he could manage, and handing it back to the reluctant technician. “When an individual - or in this case, a monster - dies whilst under its influence, it’s expelled through the digestive tract. One end or the other.”

McKechnie shuddered, before peering over the carcass of the animal towards its rear and gagging again. 

Hojo would find this interesting, provided he wasn’t the source of it in the first place, so Sephiroth gave instruction to the techs to collect as many samples as they could manage, much to their chagrin. 

The General and a dozen of his men had been called out a little after nine to attend to yet another monster outbreak through Sector 8, approximately around the time Sephiroth had given up on sleep for the night. Whilst they were out, he’d received a text from Genesis to advise that he and a handful of the 15th division had also been dispatched to Sector 1. Angeal, it seemed, was being granted a blissful night off, and Sephiroth was only a little envious, or so he told himself as he took out his third behemoth for the evening and was once again hit with the acrid smell of tainted Hyper and blood as it sprayed across his face. 

“Think that’s the last of them, sir?” McKechnie asked as he rubbed at a Third’s back comfortingly, the latter still pallid after the last kill. 

“No,” Sephiroth frowned, wiping the gore from his cheeks with a proffered rag, “but there were only reports of three. I find it difficult to believe that we’ve reached the end of the problem, however.” 

“Yeah, this is some freaky shit,” McKechnie’s brow also furrowed. “Never got anything like this happening in Kalm. Some cities do have ‘em, I guess.”

Sephiroth made a vague sound of agreement as he stared down at the flayed beast, lost in thought as one of the other Seconds took the towel off him and tossed in a nearby flaming barrel with a grimace. 

If this were the work of terrorists - why unleash the beasts on the general populace? Why not ShinRa headquarters? Unease sat heavily in Sephiroth’s stomach, leaden enough to avoid lurching even as the gases in their latest kill escaped through the beast’s mouth. 

‘ _ Any success? _ ’ Sephiroth fired off a text and Genesis responded within seconds. 

‘ _ Yes. All dispatched. Preparing report for debrief.’ _

‘ _ My office, 45 mins.’ _

‘ _ Roger.’ _

Sephiroth frowned at the device in his hands. No snark, no wit, no begrudging attempt at defiance, no emoji? Genesis was seemingly rattled by whatever his division had found, and Sephiroth’s concerns only grew. 

He glanced at the time - nearing midnight - and gave the orders for the troops to return to the loading van. The techs had long since left, satisfied with the data they would obtain from their samples, and Sephiroth doubted they’d be waking Hojo to analyse it. It would seemingly be a discussion for the morrow. 

When they got back to the ShinRa building, Sephiroth was almost at his limit of exhaustion and was rapidly internally deflating at the realisation he still had to deal with a debrief with  _ Genesis _ , of all people. He was surprised, however, as he rounded the corner before his office and found Angeal hovering just outside of the door. The Commander’s face was grim, and the unease inching its way across Sephiroth’s neck ratcheted. 

“Angeal?” He prompted, and the Commander said nothing, merely tilting his head toward Sephiroth’s office as the General wordlessly unlocked it and stepped aside to let Angeal by. 

Sephiroth closed the door behind him, before turning and finding Angeal sinking heavily into his couch. 

“Where’s Genesis?” Sephiroth asked, and Angeal lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. 

“On his way.”

“I had been advised you weren’t required on duty,” Sephiroth pressed, and Angeal sighed, stretching out across the cushions before turning his attention to the ceiling. 

“Not  _ required _ , no,” he murmured. “Consider it a matter of curiosity. Something Genesis said piqued my interest.”

“Oh?” Sephiroth prompted, and Angeal got as far as parting his lips to talk, before Genesis entered the office and effortlessly toed the door shut behind him as he approached Sephiroth’s desk. 

“Oh indeed,” the redhead frowned, before tossing a pair of blood splattered disks onto Sephiroth’s desk. “I’d assume you recognise these?”

Sephiroth’s frown deepened as he plucked the disks from the polished wooden surface and turned them over in his fingers, blood smearing across his gloves. How could he  _ not _ recognise them? He was relatively convinced he had a similar tracking device complete with the ShinRa logo beneath the skin of his neck, not that he’d be admitting that to his associates in a hurry. 

“Yes,” the General finally spoke, tossing the disks back down onto his desk as Genesis fell back into the chair across from him. “It doesn’t explain what they’re doing here, however.”

“They were in two of the beasts - a Vlakorados, it’s presence being a problem in its own right,” Genesis tugged his gloves from his hands rubbed a palm across his forehead, “and a Grand Horn.”

“A Vlakorados?” Sephiroth queried, certain he’d misheard, but Genesis merely nodded, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. “The Grand Horn we could put down to being a part of the observation programs to monitor them in the wild, but a Vlako—…”

“Are not native to this continent, correct,” Genesis interjected. “Meaning it’s highly likely that it’s either been brought over from the Northern continent by the research team and has escaped the labs, or it has been intentionally set loose - whether by R&D or by a third party is yet to be determined. Neither of which are options which I’m particularly fond of.”

“I don’t suppose we could just  _ ask  _ R&D?” Angeal offered, before being met with identical sceptical stares from his colleagues and sitting up, raising his hands placatingly. “I know we can’t guarantee to get an honest answer out of any of them, but I prefer it to the alternative of having to launch an internal investigation.”

“Sometimes what’s preferable is not our best option,” Sephiroth replied stiffly, realising that if the creatures had indeed been set loose by R&D, then Hojo would soon be aware that they were onto him. Sephiroth had had the minions collect tissue samples, after all. 

“Were there devices in your kills?” Genesis asked, and Sephiroth faltered. 

He... hadn’t checked. 

A small, yet completely uncharacteristic oversight. 

In the beats of silence that followed, a triumphant smirk of dawning understanding crept across Genesis’ face in growing glee. Before he could say a word, however, Angeal hummed, his token concern across his face. 

“You still haven’t slept?” He asked, and Sephiroth barely moved his head in a begrudging shake as Genesis’ glee quickly melted into a frown of concern to rival Angeal. As fickle as Gen was, the concern was almost comforting and Sephiroth felt some of his adrenaline fuelled edge softening in resignation.

“I thought you’d dealt with that?” Genesis asked, looking between Angeal and Sephiroth in accusation. 

Sephiroth sighed and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he slid his gaze to the ceiling. 

“I sleep on occasion. For small amounts of time,” Sephiroth spoke slowly, and Genesis cocked an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you’ve been running an army on  _ cat naps _ ?” Genesis scowled. “For someone who is alleged to be our superior in every conceivable way, such actions are not only reckless, but…  _ Angeal—… _ ”

Genesis turned to the other Commander to back him up and Angeal’s frown deepened as he nodded and met Sephiroth’s gaze. 

“Genesis is right, Sephiroth. I know you don’t want to go to the med staff for help here, but this has gone on long enough. You’re at least taking a few days off to try and have some downtime away from this all, and I’m not going to stand for any further argument on it,” Angeal said with enough firm conviction that Sephiroth damn near sunk further into his seat, like a chastised child. “Genesis and I will fill out reports and handle day to day duties. I’ll liaise with McKechnie for his recollection of tonight as well. If anything pops up, we’ll let you know, but you can’t keep going on like this. One solid night sleep, two if we’re lucky, and I’ll feel a little more comfortable with having you back behind the reigns.”

“Lazard will—” Sephiroth began. 

Angeal shook his head and cut him off. 

“No. Lazard will manage. I’ll speak with him first thing.”

“And the investigation into the terrorist cells?” Sephiroth argued, and Genesis scoffed. 

“Are you legitimately of the belief that two days without your fumbled interactions with the troops will be detrimental to the entire investigation?” Genesis asked with more than an air of incredulity. 

“ _ Genesis _ ,” Angeal admonished, but Sephiroth let out a huff of laughter. 

Leave it to Genesis to tell it how it was. 

Fatigue tugged lightly at the recesses of Sephiroth’s mind, a quiet reminder of the base needs required in order to function, and he felt his resolve crumble a little more. He couldn’t see himself winning this argument, and a small tugging thought swayed into the belief that he didn’t particularly want to either. 

“Two days?” Sephiroth queried quietly, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his desk and Angeal shared a brief glance with Genesis who seemed satisfied enough with that commitment. 

“Two days,” Angeal repeated back, and Sephiroth let out a small sigh as he stood and grabbed his phone and access card from his desk. He flicked a quick glance at the digital clock on the wall as he headed for the door, feeling his colleagues watching him as he went. He’d be back on deck by Tuesday, meaning he’d be able to adhere to his schedule without too much disruption. 

Provided he could get some sleep. 

* * *

It was a task easier said than done, Sephiroth soon realised, and after several hours of no success he made his way down to the ShinRa owned athletics track in the hope that burning off some of the lingering adrenaline from the previous night’s expedition with some poorly paced running would help. 

An hour and a half later, he was coated in a thin sheen of sweat and his tracksuit pants were clinging to him in a way that was exceptionally distant from any sense of comfort, yet he was still no closer to slumber. The sun started to break over the horizon as he wiped the sweat from his brow and let out a slow breath. The groundskeepers would be there within the hour, and he wasn’t particularly keen on having to deal with another human being just yet, so he tossed his duffel bag over his shoulder and headed for the showers. 

Sephiroth seldom used the communal SOLDIER showers, with the officers sharing a more private bathroom on the same floor as their offices for post mission clean up and with them having their own private showers within their quarters, but he didn’t feel particularly inclined to drag his near-offensive body odour through the halls post exercise without necessity. Besides this, he found a certain sense of camaraderie in sharing communal spaces with his men. It helped alleviate some of the gaping distance he felt between them at times, making him feel like he was part of a bigger collective as opposed to a superior officer. It was… comforting. 

He stepped into ShinRa building and navigated his way down the short hallways until he stepped into the locker rooms. 

The shower stalls were empty, as he had expected for that time of a Sunday morning, and he managed to snag the stall closest to the door for his own piece of mind. Military training had drilled into him to know and embrace the knowledge of his nearest exits - prepared for anything - and his time with ShinRa as a whole had taught him that the water pressure was best the closest the stall was to the plant pump room on the other side of the wall. 

He stripped off and stepped into the hot spray of water as it beat into his tense shoulders and felt some of the inexplicable unease bleed from him in turn. 

Sephiroth had had troubles with sleep before, but usually after some sort of concoction that Hojo had imbued him with or due to the requirement for battle readiness on the frontlines. Once those threats had passed, he fell into deep slumber for as long as he could muster and was all but rejuvenated upon waking. This time, however, it was as if his body still detected an imminent threat and refused to drop its guard. He rest his forehead against the cold tile of the shower wall and stared down into the drain as if it had the answers to all of his problems. 

“...pain in the ass, honestly,” his musings were interrupted by an obnoxious voice as the bathroom door banged open and several footsteps entered the fray. 

“Yeah, well, we knew what we signed up for,” a softer, more defeated voice replied as there was the heavy sound of bags being dropped onto benches and the rustle of clothes being discarded. 

“I just figured it’d be a  _ little _ easier than this, y’know? At least for the first couple of weeks,” the first voice spoke again, a definite whine in their tone. “If it’s not Commander Hewley grinding us into dust with drills, it’s my brain being melted by all the theory stuff they’re trying to cram in there.”

“I like Commander Hewley,” a third voice spoke up, muffled slightly as a shirt was seemingly pulled over their head. “And the theory is kinda fun.”

“You’re fucked in the head, Mark. Hewley’s alright, I’ll pay that, but you’re a sadist for the theory shit,” the first voice retorted, and the three voices laughed. 

Sephiroth allowed a small smile to pass his lips, as the showers turned on and the chatter continued. 

Banter was something he infrequently got to listen in on, as most of the cadets and SOLDIERs tended to be on their better behaviours around him. He felt an odd pang in his chest as he briefly dwelled on it, painfully aware once again of how his differences had become so incredibly isolating for him. 

“Was a good sesh today though, lads,” the first voice spoke up, and was met with a murmur of agreement. 

“Think Sunday sessions are the way to go then, Robbie?” The quieter voice piped up, and there was a thoughtful hum in response. 

“Yeah, might be. Apart from Dave and Cloud, the joint was deserted. Gives us free reign of the training halls without the Commander breathing down our necks,” Robbie mused, and Sephiroth felt his attention snag as if physically tugged. 

Cloud was putting in weekend work? 

By all reports that Sephiroth absolutely hadn’t hovered around, Cloud was already showing remarkable promise as it was - what more was he hoping to achieve? 

“Something tells me you  _ like _ the Commander breathing down your neck, hey?” The quieter voice teased, and Sephiroth heard a round of laughter before the sound of a shampoo bottle being hurtled over one of the stalls. 

“Shut your mouth, Roscoe, we haven’t all got supermodel girlfriends waiting at home for us,” Robbie laughed. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“Could definitely do worse,” Mark offered and Robbie snorted. 

“Man with my physique could hardly do any better that’s for sure.”

There was another round of laughter and Sephiroth turned off his shower with another brief smile as he wrung out his hair and shook off some errant droplets. Best for him to depart before they realised he was there, although he was childishly tempted to stick around to obtain any additional ego stroking material he could for Angeal’s amusement. 

He towelled off and threw on his tracksuit, listening to the sound of laughter continuing to echo as he stepped out into the corridor and turned into the lobby. He eyed off the empty halls and threw a quick glance at the clock on the wall - 8am - and hit the button for the lifts. The doors opened a short while later and his heart stuttered in his chest as Cloud stepped off and caught his gaze with a surprised one of his own. 

The blond looked sweaty - a flush along his cheeks as if he were still winding down from a workout - and Sephiroth swept a cursory glance over a sweat marked sky blue tank top and emerald green track pants. The outfit was… hideous, frankly, but Cloud either seemed not to notice or outright didn’t care. The blond did seem a little off guard at having run into Sephiroth, but offered a small smile and polite nod regardless, as he adjusted the weight of his backpack on his shoulder. 

The combination of these factors inexplicably had Sephiroth’s throat dry. 

“Good morning, sir,” the cadet spoke first, and Sephiroth managed a stiff nod. 

“Cadet Strife,” Sephiroth managed to choke out, fumbling for something else to say. 

He lost the opportunity however, as Cloud gave a little wave and wordlessly carried on his way, heading for the bathroom that Sephiroth had just vacated. The bathroom door audibly opened not that long afterward and there were a few calls of greeting from the recruits already in there as Cloud entered. 

Sephiroth missed the lift in his stupor and hit the button again, clearing his throat and adjusting his own duffel bag as he felt his cheeks warm. 

He was a grown man. The demon of Wutai. One of the most revered soldiers across all continents. SOLDIER’s best and fairest. To consistently become unravelled by a recruit was  _ humiliating.  _

And yet…

Sephiroth stepped into the lift as the doors opened once again, swiping the access panel with his card and jabbing at his floor number with a little more aggression than strictly necessary. 

And  _ yet _ , as he let his thoughts drift to the young man and his steadfast gaze, on the ride up to his quarters… Sephiroth couldn’t find it in him to mind.

* * *

Sephiroth  _ did _ manage to squeeze in around four hours of exceptionally broken sleep that night, which may as well have been a lifetime in comparison to his other recent attempts, and was surprised at how substantial of a difference those precious hours had made. He still felt a little on the sluggish side and he was under the impression that he was giving his body no opportunity for any REM to occur, but it was  _ something _ and he was quietly relieved. 

Combined with the sheer amount of nothingness occupying his Monday, by the time Angeal called with an update on their investigation, he felt ready to throw on his combat gear and head straight to the office. They hadn’t made too much leeway, with R&D claiming they hadn’t had anything to do with the attacks, but begrudgingly admitting they had had some specimens go missing the day prior. A heavily classified and iron tight report confirmed that, at least for the sake of the underlings. They hadn’t believed the specimens had made it out of the labs, however, so an alert hadn’t yet been issued by the time SOLDIER had been dispatched anyway. 

Sephiroth felt he could assist further and get more information if he were to head into the labs and discuss it with the technicians personally. 

Angeal was of another opinion. 

“ _ While a single night of mediocre sleep is  _ some _ level of improvement, I’m relatively convinced that the agreement was two days, _ ” Angeal chastised through the receiver as Sephiroth held his PHS to his ear, brow furrowing in childish petulance. “ _ The director is onboard and has said that if you’re found anywhere within the building conducting anything other than recreational activity, he’ll have the Turks escort you off-site.” _

“I’d like to see them try,” Sephiroth remarked dryly, and Angeal chuckled. 

“ _ So would I, but for the sake of the entire army, can you  _ please  _ follow direction from authority just once in your life and just take the rest of the damned day? AND —…” _ Angeal pressed onward before Sephiroth could even begin arguing, “ _ If not for the army, for your concerned and long suffering friend? _ ”

Sephiroth sighed, stretching out along his sofa and feeling his joints pop pleasantly. Despite the overall restlessness, he’d mostly enjoyed his time off. He supposed another day wouldn’t kill him.

Probably. 

“I’ll be in first thing tomorrow, I hope you’re aware,” Sephiroth conceded and he could hear the smile in Angeal’s reply. 

_ “I’d expect nothing less. Speaking of being escorted off-site, perhaps you could spend some time out of the building?”  _ The Commander suggested, and Sephiroth sighed again immediately. “ _ No, really. I’m not saying you need to be overly public or present, but maybe try immersing yourself with people who aren’t in the military. Properly break away from everything here.” _

Sephiroth didn’t love the idea, but he could hear the sincerity in his friend’s tone and the good intentions along with it. 

“I’ll consider it.”

“ _ Good. I’ll swing by your office in the morning with coffee from that cafe you like, _ ” Angeal offered, and Sephiroth’s interest piqued. “ _ Consider it a reward. _ ”

“...are you attempting to  _ condition  _ me?” Sephiroth asked lightly, and it was Angeal’s turn to sigh as he wrapped up the call. 

Sephiroth remained as he was for several minutes, staring blankly at the ceiling as he dwelled over the monster attacks, Angeal’s persistent friendship, and the niggling query of whether or not he’d be able to find sleep that night, before deciding that a day outside of the building might actually be just what he needed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRYYYY for delayed update. I was very busy yesterday and then went out and got absolutely catastrophically drunk and completely forgot. My bad. OTL
> 
> If it makes everyone feel better, my current hangover is more punishment than any of you could provide, so I am sufficiently suffering for my numerous crimes.

The war had changed him. 

Some part of Sephiroth knew that, in a logical sense. It had changed all of them. Some for better, in obtaining a purpose that Sephiroth himself could not justify, but mostly - realistically - for the worse. 

PTSD was commonplace among those who had fought in the Eastern continent and returned, and Sephiroth - as fractured of a human being as he was - wondered if he had come out of it entirely unscathed himself. 

He had been raised and cultivated to be ShinRa’s perfect weapon, like an overzealous amoeba in a grander scale picture he wanted no real part of. But… he knew nothing else. He went to war because he was told he must. He killed because he was coerced into believing his own life was at risk should he not. Most of what he could remember from the battlefields was the stench of blood, of decay. The sounds of gunfire and of anger and of pain. They were the remnants of the war he could recall in a blurred mixture of discomfort and unease, as he thought it very well should be. 

His memories of Wutai and the Eastern continent as a whole were starkly different, sharp in their clarity within his mind. 

They often had camped by the river, so he would drift to sleep to the sound of running water. The smell of grass and damp foliage from the shedding canopies above. Crickets, tangled up in their desperate need to seek one another out. 

Wutai was earthen soil and chilled breezes - comfort and a sense of peace, even amongst the detritus. 

It was what reminded him, in a jarring recognition in his quieter moments in his cot, that the enemy was human and fighting for a home they loved. A home he was learning to love in turn. 

He wasn’t sure he’d found true peace since. 

He frowned at the thought and ran a hand across his forehead, staring down at his PHS search results as he scrolled through the local restaurants and felt the slightest of breezes tangle its way through the gap between his legs where they dangled over the edge of the ShinRa building. 

He’d found this spot back pre-deployment, as a gangly teen looking for some sense of escapism from the dreary reality of having seldom left the building, let alone Midgar itself. He’d wanted somewhere to hide out where Hojo was unlikely to track him down, and the roof seemed as liberating as could be achieved. He could only ever manage to steal an hour at most, but as he’d gaze out across the glittering lights of the city, he’d indulge the fantasy of travelling the world, an army behind him, as they explored and improved each location in turn. Mako energy was the bright and shiny future, after all…

He breathed in deeply, the air acrid with smog from the plates below, and wondered how far he’d let the ShinRa propaganda run within himself. 

He had travelled the world in his few years within ShinRa, and had learned more than the labs could ever have offered. He had always thought of midgar as his home and there was an oddly fond part of his heart set aside for it, but...

The air in Wutai was crisp - sweet lungfuls of Gaia’s greatest offerings. Untainted by pollutants, clear and tinged with the subtle hint of jasmine and soil. 

Midgar was machinery - fast food, oil and the sickly tang of mako. 

Sephiroth felt an odd pang of homesickness for a place he himself had desecrated, and the swell of guilt sat swiftly and uncomfortably within his chest. 

He pressed his back against the wall of the roof’s AC plant room, pulling his legs up and keeping one flat along the building’s edge, drawing his other knee to his chest as he watched the sun setting through a brown haze. 

It may be home, but the view was no Da Chao. 

“Whilst I wasn’t expecting anyone to be hiding up here, I can’t say I’m particularly surprised to find you regardless,” a voice murmured, and Sephiroth allowed a small smile to grace his lips, as the Turk stepped through the roof access door and moved to stand beside him. 

“I doubt I’d ever be able to hide from you, Tseng, even if I were to try,” Sephiroth replied quietly, his gaze not shifting. “I would hope you’re not here to apprehend me, given my commitment to adopting slovenly ways for the day?”

“Alone? I’m no fool, General,” the Turk smirked, before pulling a cigarette packet from his jacket pocket and tapping one into his hand. “Merely indulging a vice.”

Tseng placed the cigarette between his lips and patted his pockets, before locating his lighter and wordlessly raising it to his mouth to light up. 

It was quiet for several long moments then, as the pair of them watched the fading light glint off the endless expanse of glass and metal across the plate. 

“Why are  _ you _ here, if I may ask?” Tseng broke the peace, and Sephiroth lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. 

“Nostalgia, perhaps.”

Tseng hummed in response, taking a long draw from his cigarette, his eyelashes dropping closed as he held it and then let out a long breath. Some of the tension visibly bled from him, and Sephiroth held back his quiet amusement at this very human display from his counterpart. 

“That’s a terrible habit,” Sephiroth teased, nodding at the cigarette as the Turk turned to look at him and raised a brow incredulously. 

“The same could be said for dwelling on nostalgia, General,” Tseng mused, turning to look back over the city. “ I can understand both, however.”

The Turk was quietly reflective for a moment, and Sephiroth could only wonder what ghosts danced behind  _ his  _ eyes, before the clarity returned to his gaze. 

“Are you intending on spending the night hiding up here? Do I need to contact Commander Hewley and tattle on you for breaking curfew?” Tseng asked dryly, and Sephiroth let out a huff of laughter and shook his head. 

“He means well. And no, I intend to eat at some point soon,” Sephiroth stretched out his legs even further and hesitated briefly before his next words, as awkward as ever. “Would you like to join me?” 

Tseng let out a long exhale, smoke curling from his lips, before letting them lift just barely into a smile as he tapped some ash off. 

“I’d very much like to,” he sighed, “but I’m afraid I am nowhere near the end of my working day.”

Sephiroth flicked a glance at the time and frowned, before taking in Tseng’s overall appearance in the diminishing light. He was admittedly a little dishevelled, and Sephiroth couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been on shift so far for the day. 

“Perhaps you need an Angeal of your own,” Sephiroth mused and Tseng let out a laugh. 

“Perhaps I do.”

There was another minute or so of companionable silence, whilst Sephiroth returned his focus to his PHS and Tseng continued to drain the life from his cigarette. As it burned damn near to the butt, Tseng pressed it into the wall to extinguish its remaining ember and tucked it into his pants pocket. 

“Do you like Wutaian curry, General?” The Turk asked abruptly, and Sephiroth looked up from his PHS in puzzlement. 

“I’m fond of it, yes.”

“If you’re looking for a meal, there’s a hole in the wall restaurant on West Silverman Lane - Kevin’s Place,” Tseng explained as he turned toward the door. “I think you’d enjoy it. Midgar’s best kept secret. Unrivalled curry, and the atmosphere is… palatable.”

Tseng smiled knowingly at this without elaborating further, and Sephiroth merely nodded in thanks, before the Turk wordlessly walked inside. 

Tseng was a mystery in his own right, but his interactions continued to leave Sephiroth in a better place than when their conversations began. 

Sephiroth watched as the sun dipped beneath the plate’s limits and was snuffed out, another ember crushed against a wall, before standing and making his way inside. 

* * *

The celebrity status, as reluctant as he was to embrace it, really had become a normalcy. 

Most of the time, people tried to display some semblance of discretion as they flicked him glances and spoke in hushed tones to each other about him, either unaware of his exceptional hearing or uncaring of it. Sometimes people would stop and outright gawk or even blatantly take photos, which was infinitely more uncomfortable for the General, but not as bad as those who would boldly attempt to actually interact with him. 

For the most part he usually looked unapproachable as a default, so he got away with people keeping their distance. For that, he was relieved to have a reputation preceding him. Human fascination was a curious thing, however, and seeking out his presence regardless of perceived threat was apparently a trait that many in Midgar held. 

He was thankfully only stopped once on his way to the restaurant by a young mother and her toddler son, who had a dozen quick fire questions to fling at him before he’d had the chance to even get his bearings. He answered as many of them as he could, cautiously charmed by the boy’s enthusiasm, and they went on their way shortly after, leaving Sephiroth suitably rattled and mildly amused that he could seemingly go to war as part of a second nature process but felt somehow intimidated by someone who likely still wet the bed. 

When he finally made his way to Kevin’s Place, he was surprised to see a small line out of the door. Seemingly Tseng’s assessment of quality was accurate, but perhaps not of it remaining a particularly well kept secret.

He briefly considered finding something a little more lowkey, debating the amount of people in line against the absolutely divine smells he’d caught emanating from within. He breathed in a substantial lungful of the aromas and decided that the line wasn’t  _ overly  _ long - a young couple, a small group of friends, a couple of Shinra employees, and—… Sephiroth stopped mid stride, his eyes settling on the blond figure propped up against the wall and mindlessly scrolling through his PHS. He was in jeans and what looked to be a band shirt, one Sephiroth wasn’t familiar with but suddenly fiercely wished he was. 

Cloud, again, had appeared in his vicinity and completely rattled him to his core by merely existing. 

Sephiroth again considered leaving, but hesitated a moment too long, as Cloud finally looked up from his phone and directly into Sephiroth’s gaze, surprise registering immediately. Cloud locked his PHS and offered a small, cautious smile, seemingly giving Sephiroth the opportunity to either ignore or approach. 

Despite every fiber of his self preservation insisting he flee, Sephiroth chose the latter. 

He walked toward the cadet, who stood straighter and nodded jerkily, seemingly a little nervous, and Sephiroth cleared his throat. 

“Cadet,” he managed to murmur in greeting, and felt his heart snag as the blond’s smile grew. 

“General, sir. I hadn’t expected to run into you here,” Cloud shifted on his feet, briefly fidgeting with his shirt, before running a hand through his hair. “I have tomorrow morning off, so I thought I’d grab a bite to eat. I didn’t see anything in the rule books about policy surrounding nights or mornings off, only surrounding alcohol consumption and distance you can travel when you’re due to start shift—…”

Cloud trailed off, and Sephiroth was briefly puzzled before he realised the misunderstanding. 

“You’re not in trouble, cadet,” Sephiroth assured, and some of the restless energy bled from the recruit’s form. “I’m here on a recreational basis.”

“Oh. Sorry, I just… I come here all the time - pretty much since I moved to Midgar - and I’ve never seen you around before. Not that you can’t go wherever you please, of course,” Cloud explained, shifting on his feet again and taking a few steps forward as some of the patrons in line were let in. His gaze flit from Sephiroth’s to his feet, before furtively glancing back up. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, it’s quite alright,” Sephiroth felt his own smile growing, and tried to tamper it down as much as he could manage. “I haven’t been to this area off duty before. The restaurant was recommended to me by a… friend.”

Sephiroth had the sudden thought strike him then that this may very well have been a set up of sorts. Was Tseng aware that Cloud frequented this restaurant? Was the Turk aware of Sephiroth’s self confessed fascination with the figure before him? The General couldn’t and wouldn’t put it past him. 

“The food is great. It’s not usually this busy, but I’m here a little earlier than normal. It usually starts clearing out within the next half hour,” Cloud explained, pulling his PHS out to check the time before stuffing it back in his pocket. He cleared his throat and didn’t seem intent on returning his gaze Sephiroth’s way. “Were you meeting someone here, sir?”

Sephiroth shook his head and shuffled up as the last group before them filtered into the restaurant. 

“No. Were you?” 

“Uh, no,” Cloud ran a hand over his hair again and shifted his gaze back to Sephiroth with a smile turned shy. “Did you— I mean, there’s a fair few people behind us now and Gaia only knows how long it will be til there’s another table…”

“General Sephiroth!” One of the wait staff interrupted with a wide gaze, menus clutched tightly in her grasp. “What an honour, sir! Apologies, we were not expecting you. I think we are just about to have a table free.” She glanced over her shoulder where Sephiroth could see another staff member clearing a table, before she turned back to them and smiled between both Sephiroth and Cloud. “Table for two?”

Cloud made to speak, but Sephiroth felt a swell of courage and simply nodded, Cloud’s mouth snapping shut in stunned surprise. Sephiroth turned to catch the blond’s gaze, a flush creeping along Cloud’s cheeks. Sephiroth’s throat was suddenly dry, absolutely ensnared by the vision the other made. 

He was definitely in trouble. 

“If that’s okay?” Sephiroth chanced, and Cloud nodded, flush darkening as his smile grew. 

“Yeah, that’s… I mean, as long as that’s allowed?” Cloud asked and Sephiroth had a brief moment where he wondered if it  _ was _ allowed. It was just dinner, he reminded himself, and if even that were frowned upon too deeply, what point was there to being the golden child of a company if he wasn’t able to bend the rules a little?

“I don’t see why not,” Sephiroth mused, as their waitress returned and escorted them to their table, babbling nervously the entire time.

Sephiroth could empathise, but as the fragrant smells of meats and spices washed over him in a greater intensity once they were inside, he found his greatest distraction shift monumentally. He didn’t often get hungry but he was suddenly ravenous, as they sat down and were handed their menus. Sephiroth inhaled deeply, eyes briefly fluttering closed as his stomach gurgled and a mortified flush began creeping up the back of his neck. He opened his eyes as he heard a soft laugh from Cloud, who was watching him in amusement. 

“Sorry,” the blonde laughed, briefly hiding his face behind his menu before re-emerging with an apologetic bow of his head. “I don’t mean to laugh, I just… get it. The first time I came here was my first day in Midgar. I’d been travelling for about six hours and hadn’t eaten at all since the day before. I just about passed out waiting for my food.”

Their waitress dropped off a bottle of table water and bowed her way out, as Sephiroth began to pour out their glasses. 

“I’ve noticed that you have an accent, or at least a lilt,” Sephiroth mused, and Cloud nodded. “Rocket Town?”

Cloud made a face at this and Sephiroth chuckled in spite of himself. 

“Based off of that reaction, I’ll amend my answer to Nibelheim,” Sephiroth offered and Cloud laughed. 

“Yes. Sorry, but the accents really are different. It's a habit to kinda recoil when people goof their guess,” Cloud smiled sheepishly. 

“I’ve seldom left Midgar, so I can’t relate,” Sephiroth explained, as Cloud took a drink from his glass. “I believe I can understand though. Nibelheim? You’re a long way from home.”

“Home is supposedly where the heart is, so I’m not sure I’d agree,” Cloud said quietly, fidgeting with his menu before putting it aside. 

Sephiroth may be socially awkward, but he was adept enough with cues to identify a sore point when it was presented, and let the discussion of Nibelheim taper off for the time being. 

He picked up his own menu and began reviewing it as Cloud took another long drink from his glass. Sephiroth was determined not to allow for awkward lulls, but it seemed Cloud was competent enough to fill the gaps as they began to arise. 

“Do you have a favourite Wutaian dish?” The blond asked. “They do a fantastic Thunderbird curry with a Razor Weed garnish.”

“I ate Thunderbird frequently whilst deployed, to the point I disliked it for a time,” Sephiroth admitted, “but it has grown back on me. Tseng did state that the curry here was of note.”

“Tseng of the Turks?” Cloud asked curiously, and Sephiroth nodded, suddenly oddly hesitant. 

The Seconds were well aware of his working relationship with Tseng, with the other Firsts and the Turks as a collective additionally privy to the cautious but strong friendship he and Tseng shared. Was it a private part of his life? In some ways, yes. Was it something he shouldn’t be discussing with a recruit? He wasn’t sure. 

“Yes. He and I have a good working relationship,” Sephiroth elaborated, and Cloud nodded, apparently satisfied with the response. 

“I’ve heard a lot about the Turks. I assume everyone kind of does when they join. Tseng seems nice enough though,” Cloud remarked, and Sephiroth had to squash down his immediate surprise. 

“You’ve met?” He asked, and the blond nodded, seemingly unaware of how unusual that statement was. 

“He came to speak with me the other day, just after Captain Fair’s first lesson,” Cloud explained. “He asked me a bunch of questions about myself and my background, and spoke with me about options at ShinRa. Maybe he was trying to poach me or something.”

The blond said the last statement jokingly, and Sephiroth smiled as the waitress appeared to ask if they were ready to order. Cloud rattled off some things and seemed to take it upon himself to order the curry for Sephiroth as well, but the General was admittedly distracted. 

Tseng had never - in all the years that Sephiroth had known the man - directly been involved in recruitment from the rookie pool. The task was left to the Turk underlings and the talent scout specialists. Lately, the overseeing of it usually sat with Reno, with rookie Turks sitting in where Reno or Rude were unable to. The only circumstance where Tseng mingled directly was with recruits that had already been approved for Third Class - which Sephiroth was always consulted on - or with security threats to the company itself. He’d need to speak with the Commander, if this was the case. 

Sitting across from the blond and watching the soft shifts of emotion across his face as he ordered their food and then began small talk about his day to day life as a recruit, however, Sephiroth struggled to see any sinister intent or threat in the other man that would possibly warrant Turk interest. 

“How are you finding it so far?” Sephiroth asked once Cloud had hit a breather, and the cadet let out a soft sigh. 

“It’s… tiring. Not to say it’s not rewarding or that I’m looking at giving up or giving in,” Cloud rushed, before laughing. “But I’m not too much of a morning person just yet, and with so many others a part of the broader picture, it can be a struggle to get one on one attention from some of the instructors.”

Cloud paused then, seemingly thinking his next words over and hesitating before they managed to leave his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m realising it might sound like I have some kind of ulterior motive in speaking with you,” Cloud cleared his throat. “I’m sure you get cadets hanging off of you all the time with some kind of idea to advance. I—… that’s not my intent.”

Sephiroth was admittedly a little caught off by that, yet another curveball thrown at him from the one person who never seemed to allow him to get his bearings before the next throw came. 

“Cadets tend not to interact with me at all,” Sephiroth admitted quietly. “I’ve been told I am intimidating.”

Cloud frowned at that, seemingly puzzled. 

“Why?” the blond asked, a simple question so completely unusual for Sephiroth that he was rendered momentarily speechless. 

_ Why _ ? 

He thought on it for a few long moments and cleared his throat before answering as honestly as he could manage.

“My reputation from the war, perhaps. My unusual appearance could also be a factor,” the General pursed his lips briefly. “Common gossip. Any number of things.”

Cloud frowned and shook his head, and Sephiroth felt oddly nervous as the blond met his gaze head on. 

Why was Sephiroth  _ saying _ all of that?

“The war, the gossip that gets around - did any of that come from people who actually  _ know _ you, or was it just speculation?” The recruit asked, and Sephiroth parted his lips to speak before faltering. 

No, he supposed it didn’t. 

A lot of his war time stories were recycled exaggerations of violence from ShinRa press. The inaccuracies within them could be plucked apart in seconds, but these things gained traction quicker than he could ever sink his hands into them. Sephiroth thought of the firsts and seconds who had been out East with him - could recall McKechnie helping him tend to the wounded of both sides, he and Angeal diverting from their mission to assist in personally evacuating a small family from a combat zone, a dozen other stories that never seemed brave enough or convenient enough for ShinRa’s narrative - all of them tales that never circulated. 

He did some horrible things during the war, a weight that would sit on his shoulders until his dying breath, but were they what defined him overall? Were the actions of the soldier enough to outweigh the actions of the man?

“I’m sorry,” Cloud shook his head, reaching for the bottle of water to top up his glass and studiously avoiding Sephiroth’s gaze. “It’s none of my business. Way out of line.”

“It’s alright,” Sephiroth frowned, his own thoughts racing a hundred miles a minute as he tried to drag them together. “You have an uncanny skill with providing clarity, as confronting as it may be.”

Cloud huffed an embarrassed laugh, just as the waitress arrived with their entrees. Cloud thanked her politely, and a brief silence fell over them before Sephiroth cleared his throat. 

“From what you’ve said, am I to understand that you…  _ don’t  _ find me intimidating?” Sephiroth asked, and Cloud shifted a little in his seat. 

“Sometimes, when we’re speaking and I can’t quite figure out what’s going through your mind, or if I think I’ve pushed or crossed a line - a little,” the blond admitted, before tentatively meeting Sephiroth’s gaze again. “But usually? No, sir.”

“Why not?” Sephiroth asked, mirroring the blond’s own simple query, and Cloud’s features softened a little further. 

“My mother always taught me that behind every hero, behind every villain, behind every CEO and every pauper - there’s a person,” Cloud explained simply. “It’s not to discredit someone’s accomplishments or to denote their efforts or their struggles or their successes. I just made it a habit to treat everyone with the same level of respect and compassion as I would with anybody else. It’s worked for me so far, so I don’t intend to change. I can personally be a bit… awkward. I’m kind of shy actually, so it’s also helped me with social situations.”

Sephiroth had never been much of a fidgeter, but as he held his hands under the table he toyed lightly with the hem of the table cloth, as Cloud picked up some sort of fried vegetable pastry and smiled before biting into it. The General’s stomach flipped uncomfortably and he felt that damnable heat creeping up the back of his neck once again. 

He was completely and utterly charmed. 

There was a lull in conversation as they polished off their entrees, and Sephiroth couldn’t quite keep the bliss off of his face as the flavours hit his tongue. Cloud smiled knowingly as he tucked into his own food and Sephiroth decided that he was going to owe Tseng for a long time to feel as if he’d ever express his appropriate level of gratitude for the suggestion to dine here. 

They discussed several topics as they waited for their mains - other restaurants, current events, music - and Sephiroth found some of the ever present tension in him gradually bleeding away as he relaxed into casual conversation. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d enjoyed the simple pleasure of merely interacting with another human being outside of his catch ups with the Commanders, and even then, the topic usually revolves around shared military experiences and odd discussions surrounding nostalgia and ‘in jokes’. 

It was possibly the most enjoyable experience he had had in some time. 

When the curry arrived, rich and fragrant and spiced to perfection, Sephiroth felt an odd swell of emotion that frankly caught him off guard on his first bite. It was an  _ experience _ , and he found his entire world narrowing down to his spoon as it dipped into the dish and scooped out more. 

“It’s incredible, right?” Cloud grinned after swallowing a mouthful of food and Sephiroth could do little more than nod and savour the bite, his lashes dropping closed again as a small noise of delight escaped his lips unbidden. When he opened his eyes once more, Cloud’s gaze was no longer on him and he was instead staring intently into his own bowl of food, a light dusting of pink across the blond’s cheeks. 

Sephiroth felt abruptly warm all over at the implication and forcefully reeled himself in as he continued to eat. 

The experience was interrupted as Cloud’s PHS shrilly chimed and he whipped it out of his pocket with a frown. He took a moment to read the screen before letting out a soft sigh and tucking it back. 

“Is everything alright?” Sephiroth asked, the spell between them somewhat shattered, and Cloud nodded stiffly. He had only a moment to return to his meal, before the PHS chimed again. The blond’s brows furrowed and he dug it back out, before perusing the screen and making a small sound of frustration, stuffing it back into his pocket and then dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. 

“I’m really, genuinely sorry General,” Cloud sighed, “but I need to go.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Sephiroth asked, an odd pang of concern in his chest, before Cloud offered him a soft, genuine smile and his chest panged in a different way altogether. 

“It’s okay,” the blond reassured. “Just a friend in need with terrible timing.”

“Terrible timing indeed,” Sephiroth agreed, and another blush dusted Cloud’s cheeks. 

Sephiroth didn’t think he could ever grow tired of that look. 

The blond started fishing in his pockets for gil, and Sephiroth shook his head. 

“Please allow me to cover your meal,” Sephiroth insisted. “I haven’t had the opportunity to dine out with anyone for quite some time. It was enjoyable. It would be the least I could do.”

Cloud seemed to internally debate that for a few moments before nodding and running a hand through his hair as he stood. 

“Thank you, sir,” the blond smiled, bowing his head just a little. Sephiroth returned the smile and caved in to the little voice in his mind desperate to hear what he wanted. 

“You may call me Sephiroth when we are not on duty,” the General murmured, and Cloud’s flush only darkened as his smile grew. 

“Okay. Thank you, Sephiroth. I’ll see you around.”

The blond gathered his things and gave a polite wave as he headed for the door, but Sephiroth was positively swimming in the otherwise mundane act of hearing his name in the soft, lilting Nibel accent he was quickly becoming ensnared by. 

Cloud Strife was a very dangerous man. 

Sephiroth finished his meal in silence, the restaurant gradually filtering out as he continued to wade in his emotions. Surely he had not grown so desperate for human interaction that this was a formative experience for him? He told himself that the odd fluttering in his chest was from the appreciation of his food and nothing more, long after he’d finished and paid for it and begun the walk home. 

Midgar was warm, as it often was, cloying in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant as he wove his way through metallic streets full of bustling pedestrians and gawking onlookers. For once, he barely paid them any mind. 

He entered his quarters an unknown time later, distracted as he was on his entire return, and kicked off his boots with a content sigh. 

Was he really such a fool to be so entangled with his light hearted fondness of a man he barely knew? From the mere act of being treated as a regular, normal human being for the first time in… possibly  _ ever _ ? He peeled off his clothes and tugged on a pair of loose sleep pants, idly combing his fingers through his hair before beginning his evening routine on auto pilot. By the time he crawled under his sheets and splayed across his mattress, he could feel the soft tug of fatigue pulling him into sleep, his mind still circling over his shared meal and a smile threatening to tug at his lips. 

He idly wondered if Cloud was home yet as well, or still out and assisting his friend with whatever had interrupted their meal. He wondered if Cloud had spared him more than a thought as well. If the blond would tonight stare up at his ceiling with fond thoughts of Sephiroth on  _ his  _ mind. 

Sephiroth fell asleep, his mind suitably occupied, and didn’t so much as stir until ten hours later. 


End file.
